“Oh, my dear, don’t say that. I am afraid you will not outgrow them at once.”
“Well, I don’t mean to cry myself into them; that’s what I mean. I should want to go back to bibs and feeding spoons if I did. I’m getting to be a perfect Pollyanna, Gradda.” She gave her grandmother a hug and kiss, then went up-stairs continuing her song of “The End of a Perfect Day.”
CHAPTER VI
EASTER EGGS
“ONE rainy Saturday is liable to be followed by another,” said Winnie to Joanne as she was waiting for the latter to get ready for a meeting of the Sunflower Troop, “so I don’t think we’d better count on that trip to the country yet a while. Moreover, next Sunday will be Easter and we must do something for the good of humanity between whiles.”
“What are we supposed to do?” inquired Joanne, pausing in the act of adjusting her hat.
“Something orphanly, I imagine. We generally take them on at such times. I hope you’re not going to weep this week because the country trip is deferred.”
“You hush!” Joanne pounded Winnie with a pretense of wrath. “Of course I shall not. My point of view has moved several inches in the past few days, so I have leaped far beyond the weepy stage, I hope. The next thing I have to look out for is pertness. I can be awfully sassy, Winnie.”
“I don’t doubt it,” returned Winnie with a grin, “but don’t you hate a pert miss?”
“Oh, dear, do you suppose any one ever called me that?”
“Very likely,” replied Winnie jauntily; she was nothing if not candid.