“We won’t let him blow it too often,” Alec promised; “if he tries to, we’ll drop him and it overboard.”
“Isn’t living in a village ever and ever so much more fun than living on a ranch?” Kitty demanded of Blue Bonnet as the wagon started.
“Tell her ‘no,’” Alec said.
“Tell her comparisons are odious,” another of the boys suggested.
“Tell me to come and see,” Billy urged.
And suddenly Blue Bonnet found herself wishing that it were possible to take all the “We are Seven’s” and some of their friends back to Texas with her. Would they find the life there as strange and as confusing as she had found it here? At least, there would be no school; just long happy care-free days to be spent out-of-doors. She would like Uncle Joe Terry to know Kitty—she could see the twinkle in his shrewd kindly eyes as he looked down into the freckled, piquant little face; she would like him to know Sarah, too, and all the girls, and Alec. And she would like them all to know Uncle Joe. So long as there were no fences making choice of side imperative, even Amanda was good fun; besides, she was a club member.
But of course, it was not to be thought of.
“If I were the ‘rankin’ officer,’” Kitty announced, “I should be calling you to attention just about now, Blue Bonnet Ashe. You are the unhearingest girl that ever was!”
“But you’re not, you know,” Blue Bonnet answered; “and I was thinking of something.”
“You mostly are—when you shouldn’t be; and mostly aren’t when you should be,” Kitty observed.