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Barbara Lewis was very much puzzled. All the girls in her camp fire were winning the right to embroider their symbol on the dress of their guardian and she wanted to do the same. But how could she? She had chosen for her name, “Chante–I serve,” and she wanted to really win the right to have the name, but how could she? She was not allowed to go into the kitchen to help there at home, for the cook would leave if she were disturbed, so she couldn’t do as some of her friends were doing and learn to cook. She couldn’t serve mother, for mother was always away at the club or doing work about the country for the suffrage cause. There were maids to do the mending and the sewing, so how could she serve there?

Some of the girls could serve at their church, but her teacher had never asked her to do one thing, though she was always ready. Her teacher had not formed a club of her girls, so of course she knew them only on Sundays. There was no chance to serve the church. If she only knew the minister, perhaps he would suggest a way, but he was very tall and very dignified, so she just couldn’t ask him. Whatever could she do?

It had been weeks since their guardian had told them that when they had earned the right to their names, they could embroider the symbol on her dress, and every day since then she had wished she knew what to do. Mary had chosen the name “Aka–I can,” and when she had proved that she could break herself of using slang by using none for a whole month, she put a tiny little white flower on the dress, for she was using pure speech.

“Frilohe” was the name Grace had chosen and it meant, ” A friend who loves to help.” Grace’s mother had been in the hospital and Grace had taken care of the brothers and sisters all the time, so, of course, they all agreed that she had earned the right.

And now Barbara felt that she just must think of a way. She would go to the library and ask her friend there if she knew what she could do to serve.

Now it chanced that from that library there were going out almost every day girls to tell stories to groups of children about the city. Sometimes they went to the orphan homes, sometimes to the hospitals, sometimes to the crowded streets. Into many needy places they were sent, and already the children were beginning to look for the gypsy-girls who were story-tellers. As Barbara entered the library, one of the girls was just leaving, so she stopped for a moment and told about her new work and how much she loved it.

“Aha,” said Barbara, “I believe I could do that. I have read such lots and lots of stories, I am sure I could do that. I should love to try. But they haven’t asked me. I couldn’t volunteer, for mother would think me very bold. Oh dear, I am sure I could serve in that way.”

All the way home she thought the matter over and then a plan came to her. Just back of the house there was an alley and the little children there were always looking through the fence at the flowers in her beautiful garden. She would tell stories to these little children and see what she could do. So she went into the house to find the stories she would use. All the afternoon she looked in her old books. Then she was sure she was ready.

For a long time she hesitated the next morning as she dressed. She must look her very best if she was to win the children. Finally she chose a little blue gingham dress that she liked much–perhaps they would like it too. It was only ten o’clock when she went into the garden to wait. Dear me! Weren’t they coming this morning? One hour passed and then another half.