When Reuben had spoken of the picnic his mother, who was, to express it mildly, a frugal woman, had said that she, for one, didn’t approve of picnics. “Folks eat four times as much at a picnic as they do at home, and ain’t no better satisfied,” she declared; but after much urging she consented to go, saying: “A lot of maple sugar’ll be all I’ll take. Sweets take away folks’ appetites, and folks that eat my maple sugar won’t want much else.”
But try as they would, neither Belinda’s nor Jemima’s blandishments brought forward any of the desired sugar. Now Reuben liked the girls well enough, and his boyish vanity was pleased by their evident liking for his society. He was a generous little fellow and would gladly have treated his friends, but his mother’s eyes were upon him, and he said afterward, he “just didn’t dare.”
Jotham Potts, hearing Helen say that she liked water cresses, gallantly offered to go and find some, assuring her that he knew just where they grew.
Helen, Randy, and Prue sat under a large tree, and Helen promised, since Randy was so charmed with fairy tales, to tell some which she knew they had never heard. She told them tales from Grimm’s wonderful book, pleasantly answering Prue’s funny questions regarding them. When she related the story of the “Gold Children,” little Prue’s eyes dilated with wonder.
“It’s just beautiful,” said Randy.
“If they were clear, solid gold how could they move or stir?” asked Prue.
Helen laughed, and patted the little girl’s cheek as she said: “Dear little girl, you mustn’t ask questions which have no answers. Remember the fairy tales are not true, only amusing.”
Having told story after story, Helen became a bit weary, and she proposed that the children should gather a few flowers, saying that she would twine them into a lovely wreath for Prue’s curly head.
Off went the children to search for the finest blossoms to heap in Helen’s lap. Soon little Prue hastened back with three large daisies and a buttercup, asking if they were quite enough to make a wreath. “No, indeed,” said Helen, “I must have ever so many more.”
Away ran Prue, shouting to the children, “Miss Dayton says it takes a nawful lot more.” Soon other children came running to Helen with little hands full of buttercups and daisies, until she cried, “Enough, more than enough!” and commenced the weaving of the wreath.