"I'll wash the potatoes," Amanda offered in amend for having touched a painful chord.
"All right!" Blue Bonnet beamed acceptance of the kind intention and handed over the pan without hesitation. "I'll make up a hot fire, and we'll get everything started and the table set,—then you and I are going to the Spring."
"Oh, are we?" asked Amanda blankly. One never knew what scheme lurked in the back of Blue Bonnet's head.
"For table decorations. I saw some ferns and wild honeysuckle near the bank, and it won't take much time to gather enough for the table."
"Decorating the table isn't 'simple,' is it?" Amanda asked rather provokingly.
"If you know anything simpler than a wildflower, I'd like to be shown it," retorted Blue Bonnet. "Come on, we must do some tall hustling."
The "tall hustling" got the table set in a rather sketchy fashion; hurried the potatoes into a scorching oven; placed the already cooked roast in the top of the same oven at the same time; and saw Blue Bonnet and Amanda headed for the Spring, bearing a fruit-jar and the camp's only carving-knife, just as Uncle Joe came up the bank with a fine string of speckled trout.
"All ready to fry, Honey," he said, holding them up proudly.
"Hide them quick!" cried Blue Bonnet in alarm, "shooing" him back towards the creek.
Used as he was to Blue Bonnet's impetuosity, this move of hers filled him with amazement. "What's the matter,—they're perfectly good trout!" he urged.
