“We are to sleep out-of-doors just like soldiers,” remarked Jack with satisfaction as she watched the preparations.
’Lish tossed the packs one after another into the wagon. “Pile in,” he cried, and the girls obeyed with alacrity.
“I hope it won’t rain,” remarked Florence Yardley scanning the sky anxiously.
“Now, Flo, don’t be a wet blanket,” said her chum, Carrie King. “Suppose it does rain, who cares?”
“So much more fun,” agreed the rest.
“We haven’t on such flimsy attire that it will make any difference,” said Bertha Stine. “What are you kicking about, Floss?”
“Oh, I’m not kicking,” returned Florence subsiding. “I suppose one may mention a preference for good weather when our object is to see the sunrise to-morrow morning.”
“Our object is to have a good time regardless of weather. If there happens to be a sunrise that is what we want; if it rains that is what we want. Isn’t that the proper spirit, Miss Lloyd?”
“Beautifully proper. I couldn’t ask for a fairer philosophy than that.”
“And there’s this about it,” Bertha went on. “If we miss a sunrise this time we can try it again and still keep our object in anticipation. In other words if we don’t have our cake and eat it, we can eat our pie and keep our pudding. Isn’t that it, girls?”