They had become used to the sullen roar of the river now and did not heed its voice. This was a delightful spot for camping and when Ricardo came up with the wagon, the boys and Jib quickly erected the tent, hobbled the ponies, and built a fire in the most approved campers’ fashion.
Never had a picnic luncheon tasted so good to any of the party. The mountain air had put an edge on their appetites, and Heavy performed such feats of mastication that Helen declared she trembled for the result.
“Don’t you trouble about me,” said the stout girl. “You want to begin to worry over my health when I don’t eat at all. And I can’t see where I have got so far ahead of any of the rest of you in the punishment of this lunch.”
But afterward, when the other girls proposed to climb the rocky path to the summit of the natural bridge, Heavy objected.
“It’s injurious to take violent exercise after eating heavily,” she said.
“I never knew the time when Heavy considered it safe to exercise,” said The Fox, who had gradually recovered her usual manner since the runaway. “The time between meals isn’t long enough, in her opinion, to warrant anybody’s working. Come on! let’s leave her to slothful dreams.”
“And blisters,” added Heavy. “My shoes have hurt me for two days. I wouldn’t climb over these rocks for a farm—with a pig on’t! Go on—and perspire—and tell yourselves you’re having a good time. I’ve a book here to read,” declared the graceless and lazy stout girl.
“But aren’t the boys going?” asked Ruth.
“They’ve started for the tunnel down there—with Jib,” said Jane Ann, with a snap. “Huh! boys aren’t no good, anyway.”
“Your opinion may be correct; your grammar is terrible,” scoffed Mary Cox.