“Zovely!” echoed Dickie, clapping red worsted mittens ecstatically.
“I think he’s rather vulgar,” Pennie said doubtfully on one of these occasions with an anxiously puckered brow; “and besides, there’s nothing to make up about him. What can you pretend?”
The snow man certainly looked hopelessly prosaic as Ambrose tilted his hat a little more to one side.
“Guy Fawkes?” suggested David, having studied the matter solidly for some minutes.
“No,” said Pennie, “not Guy Fawkes—he’s so common—we’ve had him heaps of times. But I’ll tell you what would be splendid; we’ll make him a martyr in Smithfield.”
The boys looked doubtful, but Nancy clapped her hands.
“That’s capital,” she said.
“You know,” continued Pennie for the general information, “they burned them.”
“Alive?” inquired Ambrose eagerly.
“Yes.”