“Never mind, Ferd, never mind,” said Dave, softly. “We’ll be a bit that way ourselves before the winter’s over. You know, Ferd, that your folks will insist on your keeping your hair cut and your finger-nails manicured.”
“And of course I’ll have a blister on my heel from wearing dancing pumps before the season is over,” groaned Tubby. “Oh, well! it’s not altogether our fault that we grow up so fast. Our folks make us,” and he groaned again, for dancing school was one of the fat youth’s pet aversions.
“That is what youth is for,” advised Mrs. Havel, who overheard all this. “It is a preparation for manhood and womanhood.”
“Dear me! Dear me! let’s forget it,” cried Dave. “This is no time for feeling solemn. Thank goodness, for two solid months we have forgotten all about the ‘duty we owe to posterity,’ as the professor expresses it. Maybe next year we can forget it again in our camps upon the shores of Lake Honotonka.”
“Well expressed, little boy–well expressed,” agreed Wynifred, tweaking one of Dave’s curls that would not lie down, no matter what he did to them. “My! but we have grown serious. This is no way to end our camping days, girls. Come! another lively song—”
The motor boat drifted in to the boathouse landing to the lilt of a familiar rowing song. Wyn’s camping days were over; the outing of the Go-Ahead Club was at an end.
THE END
SOMETHING ABOUT
AMY BELL MARLOWE
AND HER BOOKS FOR GIRLS
In these days, when the printing presses are turning out so many books for girls that are good, bad and indifferent, it is refreshing to come upon the works of such a gifted authoress as Miss Amy Bell Marlowe, who is now under contract to write exclusively for Messrs. Grosset & Dunlap.