“Yes, indeed. Let’s go down to the shore now,” urged Amanda.
“We’d best leave our berries safely at home,” replied Anne, who did not forget her adventure with the Indian squaws and was now very careful not to go too far from the settlement, and so it was decided that they should hurry home and leave their baskets and meet on the smooth sandy beach near Anne’s old home.
Anne was the first to reach the place. She brought with her two long smooth sticks and had already traced out an enormous A when Amanda appeared.
“This is ‘A,’” she called out. “‘A’ is for Anne, and for Amanda.”
“I know I can remember that,” said Amanda, “and I can make it, too.”
It was not long before a long row of huge letters were shaped along the beach, and when Amos came down he looked at them wonderingly.
“Amos, can you spell my name?” asked his sister.
“Of course I can!” replied the boy scornfully. “I’ll mark it out for you,” and in a short time Amanda was repeating over and over again the letters which formed her name.
After Amos had marked out his sister’s name in the sand he started along the shore to where a dory lay, just floating on the swell of the incoming tide.
“Amos is going to fish for flounders,” said Amanda; “he catches a fine mess almost every afternoon for mother to cook for supper. He’s a great help.”