"I guess we won't add much to the account this summer," said Polly seriously. "We have the dues for the last meeting, but even if we have another meeting we won't be fussy about collecting. Mother said she thought we should have our allowances to spend for vacation fun as long as we were at the beach."
"I don't care if we don't add much to the amount in the bank," Fred said. "But it does get me to have the boys always planning some way to spend what we have. If Ward and Artie had had their way, we wouldn't have a cent to show."
"Well, can't I even have ideas?" demanded the aggrieved Artie. "I didn't say to buy a farm—I just asked why we couldn't."
"Isn't this where we turn in?" Polly suggested diplomatically.
They had reached the farm, and though Margy whispered that she didn't believe the folks would be up, they found the farmer and his family at breakfast. While the "farmeress," as Polly designated her, bustled around and put three dozen eggs in a pail, her husband kept urging the children to "pull up your chairs and have a bite to eat."
"We're going to have breakfast as soon as we get home, thank you," said Polly, who was generally appointed spokesman by silent consent. "And we had bread and milk before we started."
They found it a little difficult to get away, for the farmer's wife liked to talk and did not often have visitors so early in the day. When they finally were out on the road again, Artie announced that he had changed his mind about buying a farm. He thought they could do better with the money saved from their club dues.
"Did you hear that man?" he asked. "He said he gets up at four o'clock the year around. Gee, in winter it's pitch dark at four o'clock! Why, I wouldn't get up at four o'clock in winter for—for anything."
They brought tremendous appetites home with them for breakfast, but Mrs. Williamson was ready for them. So was Jess, who scolded roundly because the other girls had not wakened her. The morning sped by on wings, for there was the prospect of a lively afternoon before them to lend zest even to the tasks of putting their rooms in order and sweeping off the porches before they went swimming.
"That's the only trouble with all these balconies," Margy confided to Polly. "You have to sweep 'em off, just as though they were really porches. I think there is such a thing as having too many balconies."