"Well, I have three," said King, "so you see I haven't such deep awe of them. But Midget won't hurt you, so don't be too scared of her."
Marjorie smiled in most friendly fashion, for she liked these boys, and especially Tom.
"How old are you?" she asked him, in her frank, pleasant way.
"I'm fourteen," replied Tom, "and the other kids are twelve and ten."
"King's fourteen,—'most fifteen," said Midget; "and I'll be thirteen in July. So we're all in the same years. I wish our Kitty was here. She's nearly eleven, but she isn't any bigger than Harry."
Harry smiled shyly, and poked at the potatoes with a stick, not knowing quite what to say.
"You see," King explained, "Midget is the best sort of a girl there is. She's girly, all right, and yet she's as good as a boy at cutting up jinks or doing any old kind of stunts."
The three Craigs looked at Marjorie in speechless admiration.
"I never knew that kind," said Tom, thoughtfully. "You see, we go to a boys' school, and we haven't any girl cousins, or anything; and the only girls I ever see are at dancing class, or in a summer hotel, and then they're all frilled up, and sort of airy."
"I love to play with boys," said Marjorie, frankly, "and I guess we'll have a lot of fun this summer."