Chapter III: Such Is Fame

Pee-wee’s plans, indeed, were more numerous than the miscellaneous possessions which he displayed upon his scout regalia and which set him off like a sort of animated Christmas tree. If his active brain could have been revealed to view it would have been found decorated with plans of every description; schemes and enterprises would have been seen dangling from it, as his jack-knife and his compass and his cooking pan and his watch and his coil of rope were seen dangling from his belt and jacket. His mind was a sort of miniature attic, full of junk. An artist familiar with rummage sales might picture our scout hero in all his glory. But alas, no artist could picture his brain!

At the time of the beginning of this odd train of happenings, Pee-wee had cause to be both proud and satisfied. For one thing he had eight dollars and sixty cents, the rest of his ten dollars having gone to Bennett’s.

The animal first aid badge which he had lately won, being his tenth award, had made him a star scout. The badge itself had not yet been tendered him but this would be done by the exalted powers when he reached Temple Camp. It would be done with befitting ceremony. It was not necessary for anyone to tell Pee-wee that he was a hero; he admitted it. After he had received his rank of star scout all of the pioneer[1] scouts at camp would rally to his standard, clamoring for admittance to his new, and altogether unique, patrol. So Pee-wee’s path of glory was mapped out, as far as it was possible for the human imagination to map it. The new patrol was to be called the Hop-toad Patrol, because it was by tracking a hop-toad to its savage lair that Pee-wee had won the stalking badge, one of the stepping stones to his pedestal of glory.

But the fame of Scout Harris had already gone further than he knew; it had penetrated to North Deadham, and had appealed to Aunt Sophia Primshock’s eyes, if it could not sneak in through her ears. On the very next morning after Pee-wee’s brief career upon the stage he received the following letter:

_My dearest nephew Walter:_

We were so pleased to see in the Council Fire column of a
newspaper that you have been awarded the scout badge for
first aid to animals. Prudence is so proud of her cousin
that she cannot wait to see you and tell you so. When we
think of all the cruelty that is inflicted on poor dumb
creatures, and sometimes by boys, it makes me very happy to
think that my very own nephew stands as the champion of the
beasts and birds, and will not harm them or allow anyone
else to harm them. That is better than selling sausages like
a pedler, and if it is true that they are made of dogs it
makes one’s heart ache to think of it. We want you to come
here and see us very soon, and you must stay for several
days.

Your proud and happy
AUNT SOPHIA.

Enclosed in the envelope was another missive, rather more formal in tone, which read:

TO WALTER HARRIS, SCOUT:----

The Humane Committee of the Girl Scouts of North Deadham
invite you to attend their rally on Saturday evening, July
the tenth, and to accept the Black Beauty Cross of Mercy,
for friendship and kindness to dumb creatures. This cross is
given only by the North Deadham organization, to those
rendering conspicuous service in the field of humanity by
championing our dumb friends who cannot speak for
themselves.

Katherine Kindheart
Sympathea Softe
Dorothy Docile
Prudence Primshock
Committee

The hero’s acceptance of this invitation was a little disconcerting, but it did not dim his glory. On the contrary (so far as his own efforts were concerned) it increased his glory. He wrote:

_Dear Aunt Sophia and Prudence and that Committee too:_

I got that animal first aid badge so now I have ten badges
only I didn’t get it yet but anyway, I’m a star scout. You
have to have a general knowledge of farm animals and I know
a lot about them and I was kicked by a cow and she spilled
the milk. I like milk too. I know what’s good for colic and
you have to know that and it’s good for a horse. I don’t
mean colic.

Once when I was drowning some kittens I saved two so that
was a kind act to those two and that counts. It counts one
point. I fixed a tin can that was tied to a dog’s tail
because it was tied too tight. I know all about the
different knots, too. Once I grabbed a bat because I thought
it was a dish rag hanging up. I bet most girls wouldn’t be
kind to mice especially rats.

If a horse falls down you have to take off his harness and
the thing that goes kind of alongside his neck comes off
like suspenders. Anyway I like a belt better on account of
wearing my belt axe. Gee whiz I like girls and every kind of
animals, only they’re scared when they get in a rowboat.

I read that story about Black Beauty that your badge is
named after. I like elephants better. If you have a parrot
you better not swear because he learns it. Scouts have to
cut birds up in sections so as to tell the different parts
of them. I’m going to wear that Black Beauty badge alongside
my star badge. I’m going to go on the train that gets there
in time for supper.

With love,
WALTER HARRIS

First Aid
Physical Development
Personal Health
Public Health
Life Saving
Astronomy
Swimming
Forestry
Dairying
Animal First Aid that makes ten.

P. S. I don’t mean you have to cut birds up alive only in
pictures.

Aunt Sophia put on her spectacles and scrutinized this letter curiously, but in the end her eyes dwelt fondly on the words at the end of the list of badges. Pee-wee always thus summarized his glories, even in school examination papers. She gazed at the words _Animal First Aid_ and was reassured.

As for Sympathea Softe and Katherine Kindheart and Dorothy Docile, they were greatly edified by the imposing list of Pee-wee’s triumphs.

“_Physical Development_,” said Dorothy, in whispered admiration; “I just _bet_ he’s tall and dark, with a splendid chest. One can be _big_ and _gentle_ at the same time.”

“Of course,” said Sympathea, “look at elephants; they’re as _gentle_ as can be.”

“Oh, I hope he isn’t like an elephant,” said Dorothy; “they’re so clumsy. And they just eat, eat, all day. They just _live_ on peanuts.”

“I pictured him as tall and lithe,” said Miss Katherine Kindheart; “like a--like a tree. I think that one familiar with forestry is almost _sure_ to be tall. The swimming award too! Oh, I just long to see him. I think that _forestry_ is such perfectly _scrumptious_ word too. _Forestry!_ It sort of reminds me of Daniel Boone and Buffalo Bill--calm and stately; you know what I mean.”

“Or General Pershing,” said Sympathea.

“Or Eugene O’Brien,” said Dorothy, who was something of a movie fan.

“Oh don’t you just _long_ to see him?” they all asked each other.

-----

[1] Pioneer scout; a lone scout; one without troop or patrol affiliations.