The children watched her dainty fingers, as with airy grace they fashioned it, and when she twined the ends of the garland together, and placed the finished wreath upon Prue’s head, their delight knew no bounds.
“Oh, Miss Dayton, you can do anything, can’t you?” said Belinda Babson.
“Oh, no, indeed!” said Helen, “there are many, many things which I cannot do.”
Then they spread the table-cloth upon the grass, and “put the picnic on it,” as Prue said. Prue’s idea of a picnic was a lunch out of doors, and until the luncheon made its appearance, she felt that the picnic had not even commenced. Then suddenly clapping her chubby hands, and dancing in a manner which threatened to dislodge her flower crown, she said, “May I wear this wreath while I eat my lunch?”
“Oh, do,” said Helen, “it is really very becoming.”
Every one seemed anxious that Helen should sit as guest of honor at the spread, so, with children on either side, she took her place, and deftly put each one present at ease with her bright, pleasant conversation; now saying a kind word to old Mrs. Dewing, that she might not feel neglected, or laughing lightly at Farmer Morse’s clumsy wit, noticing Randy’s gentle manner with her little sister, and at the same time, with ready tact, seeming unmindful of the practised hand with which Jack Marden handled his pie with his knife.
So with laughter and gay chatter the lunch was eaten and cleared away, and some one proposed some games.
“Let’s play ‘On the green carpet,’” said Phœbe Small, and a chorus of voices echoed: “Oh, yes! Let’s play that first;” so, joining hands, they sang the old tune as they danced about Helen, whom they insisted should first stand in the centre.
“And choose the one
That you love best,”
sang the children.