"Hope she won't starve!"
"Hadn't you better run after a rabbit and catch it for her?"
"Or shoot a cock sparrow?"
"Come with us to drill and we'll make you a colonel of the regiment."
"Or we'll practise ambulance work, and bind up your leg and carry you home on a coat."
"You've no idea what fun it would be."
But Ronnie stuck to his guns. He had come out with the intention of fishing, and not even the attractions of drill and ambulance could tempt him from trying his new shrimping net.
"We shall expect a pilchard apiece," declared his friends, as they gave up trying to cajole him and went on their way.
"You won't get any; they're all for Auntie!" he shouted. "Yes, they are, even if I catch shoals, and shoals, and shoals!"
The girls laughed, talked about him for a moment or two, and then dismissed him from their minds. They were full of their practice for the afternoon. It was only this term that drill and ambulance had been taken up at the school, so they were still in the first heat of their enthusiasm. On this occasion, too, Miss Barlow, a lady staying in the neighbourhood, who had been largely connected with the Girl Guide movement in Australia, had promised to come and inspect them and give them some of the results of her Colonial experience. A strip of green sward not far from the scene of the beacon fire made an excellent parade ground, and here they drew up in line to await the arrival of their honorary colonel, who was following with Miss Birks. Miss Barlow proved to be, like an old-fashioned children's book, "a combination of amusement and instruction". She had extremely jolly, pleasant manners and a fund of lively remarks, making everybody laugh heartily as she went her round of inspection.