“He just hasn’t forgotten what it is to be a boy,” began Ferd.
“But, goodness me!” cried Frankie. “He’s forgotten about everything else, at some time or other; hasn’t he?”
“Not what he’s learned out of books and from observation,” declared Dave. “But my goodness! he is absent-minded. Yesterday a couple of us fellows chopped up a good heap of firewood. We don’t have a fancy stove like you girls, but just an out-of-doors fireplace. After supper the dear old prof, said he’d wash the dishes, and we dumped all the pots and pans together and–what do you think?”
“Couldn’t think,” drawled Frank. “I’m too lazy. Tell us without making your story so complicated.”
“Why, we found he had carried an armful of firewood down to the shore and was industriously swashing the sticks up and down in the water, thinking he was washing the supper dishes.”
With similar conversation, and merry badinage, the journey around Lake Honotonka progressed. The shores of the lake, in full summer dress, were beautiful. There was an awning upon the motor boat, so the rapidly mounting sun did not trouble the party. But it was hot at noonday, and through Dave’s glasses they could see that the sails on the mill behind Windmill Farm were still. There wasn’t air enough stirring, even at that height, to keep the arms in motion, and down here on the water the temperature grew baking.
They ran into a cool cove and went ashore for dinner. Nobody wanted anything hot, and so, as there was a splendid spring at hand, they made lemonade and ate sandwiches of potted chicken and hard-boiled eggs which the boys had been thoughtful enough to bring along. The girls had crisp salad leaves to go with the chicken, too, and some nice mayonnaise. Altogether even Tubby was willing to pronounce the “cold bite” satisfying.
“And I’m no hypocrite,” declared the fat youth, earnestly. “When I say a thing I mean it.”
“What is your idea of a hypocrite, Tubby?” demanded Wyn, laughing.
“A boy who comes to school smiling,” replied Tubby, promptly.