In the meantime the snow had melted, to be replaced by slush and, as March ended, by mud. Polly slipped back easily into her accustomed place. Easter vacation, spent at Atlantic City with Uncle Roddy, came and went, so that when this chapter opens, spring was fully established and Seddon Hall was a mass of dogwood and violets.
Today was the day of the Faculty tea, to be
given by the Seniors, and Polly, Lois, and Betty were helping them make the sandwiches and fruit punch.
“Wah, but I’m hot and tired!” sighed Lois, holding a thin slice of bread in one hand and a knife smeared with mayonnaise dressing in the other.
“You’re lazy, you mean,” replied Betty. “Try squeezing a few of these lemons if you want a sample of real work; they’re as hard as rocks.”
Polly looked up, flushed from her task.
“I’ve an idea,” she exclaimed. “Look! Put the lemon on the floor and roll it gently with your toe. See how soft it gets!” she continued as she cut the rolled lemon in half and squeezed out the juice.
“Bright idea!” congratulated Betty. “Why didn’t you think of it before?” And putting a lemon on the floor, she started rolling it vigorously.
“Lo, if you could see how funny you look,” she added. “You’ve a daub of dressing on the end of your nose.”
“Oh, would some power the giftie gie us, to see ourselves as others see us,” quoted Lois. “Who said that?” she inquired.