The next morning broke clear and beautiful as only a late spring day can start. The step-brothers found Aunt Belle busy canning rhubarb, and she eyed the two dozen jars with keen satisfaction.
“There, that’s finished,” she announced.
“Did you do all that this morning?” Jim asked for the sun was hardly well out of the Lake and was sending a golden path dancing across the water.
“Land o’ Goodness, yes. Tomorrow I’m going to make some dandelion wine, and before sun-up is the best time of day to get work done, to my way of thinking,” she replied as she bustled about getting the meal ready.
“Then suppose we give you that joy-ride right after breakfast,” Jim proposed, and he looked at her to see if she had changed her mind.
“Land o’ Goodness, you boys don’t believe in giving a body a minute to worry over doing a thing like that. I don’t know—”
“There’s no time like the present,” Bob teased her, and she smiled.
“I might’s well get it over with and it will be a real experience. I can think of it all winter. All right.” They both had a hunch that she was eager for the adventure, but she was mighty nervous about it, just the same. “It’s kind of like going to have an operation or a tooth pulled,” she told them and they laughed.
“You won’t feel that way about it when you come back.”
“Coming back will be a relief, like when the tooth or the appendix has been taken out. I suppose I’ll be kind of shaky and queer, but the agony will be over. Now, you sit right down and help yourselves. Norman told me to be sure to wrap up warm.” She hurried away and the boys grinned, then obeyed orders. By the time they had finished, Mrs. Fenton appeared, wrapped from head to foot almost like an Eskimo. Her lips were set grimly and her fists were clenched for the ordeal.