Over these bazaars there was a permanent difficulty, because it had been laid down by law (owing to Nonconformist action at the time of the ballot scandals in the early thirties) that no bazaar might be held unless either the local clergyman or his wife were on the committee of management. I shall never forget a luncheon-party at my house at which Lady Combe and I and the Rowlands were present to discuss the latest bazaar-fête—I think it was in aid of the Society for Teaching Useful Trades to Out-of-work Chauffeurs—but fell inevitably into general conversation. “Miss Winterhead,” said Mrs. Rowlands, “did you see about that very interesting schism in the Boy Scout Movement since the Congress at Nottingham, in to-day’s _Times_?” “Yesterday’s, my dear, yesterday’s,” put in the vicar, as if to suggest that the crisis might have had time to blow over by now. It appeared that the Socialist patrol leaders had protested _en masse_ against the rule of saluting the Confederation Jack, and since they could not win their point, had started a schism. In this new “Boy Steward” movement, the practice of saluting was to be entirely abandoned; the names of carnivorous animals such as the lion and the tiger were to disappear from the totem-list, and to be replaced by those of the ant, the bee, the beaver, and other commodity-producing animals, umbrellas might be carried instead of staves, and most important of all, the sleeves might be buttoned at the wrist instead of rolled up to the elbow. Further, instead of doing a good deed every day, the Stewards were under contract to do a bad deed every day; and many old gentlemen were writing to the papers to complain that they had been snowballed, or tripped up with wires, or brought down by margarine-slides, under the influence of the new movement. Of all this, I need hardly say, Mrs. Rowlands was in hearty support. “Independence,” she said, “and self-reliance—that’s what the old movement lacked.”