“What a way!” commented Persis.
“I have not been to a corn-roast for nothing.”
“Suppose the wood catches fire.”
“Suppose we are stupid enough to let it.”
“I give in. Your housewifely arts are too much for me. How is that milk to be boiled?”
“Over the gas. We have a very small, but very convenient, gas-stove. Where is it, Mrs. Bailey?”
“I am dumb with admiration,” declared Persis. “I am so glad I did not finish my work in time to go home for luncheon. This is a most delightful change from the usual routine. There! I smell that wood; the pies must be warm. Please give me one; I am half starved. Oh, how good it is!”
A very merry meal was made. “My first in Bohemia,” Persis certified.
“But not your last, I venture to say. I see many such in the perspective,” Mr. Danforth predicted.
“Not for some time,” rejoined Persis. “I am pretty sure of college, Mr. Dan. Will you keep my place for me till I come back? But, no; that is pressing friendship rather too far. I should not require such a thing of you. Even with all the benefit my vast acquirements might prove to your paper I will not exact it.”