The Hickory Limb

Mother, may I go out to swim? Yes, my darling daughter; Hang your clothes on a hickory limb, And don't go near the water.

ladys Bailey had a parasol in one hand and a card-case in the other. From her own wide experience in social usage, she was going to initiate the twins into the mystery of formal calls. She had told them earlier in the day that they might bring their younger sister, but later reflection decided her to withdraw this permission. As Katherine and Alice were ready first, it was easy to explain to them her reasons.
Four, Gladys said, are too many to go calling. Margery's too little for our crowd anyway, and, besides, that would make three from one family. We had just better start before she comes down.
For a moment the twins looked doubtful; then, as usual, agreed. Thereupon, all three cautiously tiptoed off the porch and down the lawn. Before they reached the street, Margery was after them, calling: Wait a minute, Katherine! Wait, Alice!
The twins had barely time to slip through the gate and hear Gladys's low injunction, Don't let her come, when Margery was upon them.
You can't come with us, Margery, Katherine began, with an assumption of innocence.
Why, Katherine, you promised I could.
That was for to-morrow, suggested Alice weakly.
Margery looked from her sisters to Gladys, who was staring vaguely across the street. Her excessive aloofness was suspicious, and Margery instantly jumped to conclusions.
I bet I know what's the matter. That old Gladys Bailey doesn't want me. But I'm going anyhow! I don't care what she says! I'm going!