So Alice ran in to speak to her mother and to leave the dolls’ dresses, just as Ben came hurrying out, buttoning his tight little blue jacket.
“I might hitch up Jerry to the delivery wagon and take you that way,” suggested Ben.
“No, walking is more fun,” said Betty, who always knew exactly what she wanted to do. A moment later Alice ran toward them, waving good-bye to the young-looking woman who stood in the doorway. Betty flourished the lunch-bag wildly in the air, while Miss Ruth and Elsa waved friendly greetings and Ben shouted farewells.
“What a splendid place to live in, Alice, with the woods so near,” said Elsa. “I love to walk in the woods and go hunting into bushes, and discover things.” Elsa looked with eager eyes at the clumps of scrub-oak and low bushes ahead, beyond the stone wall.
“There are snakes there sometimes, in warm weather,” said timid Alice.
“I’m not afraid of snakes,” Elsa said.
“I love ’em,—the cunning little ones,” cried Betty; which was true, for Betty loved almost everything that was alive.
“I will tell you a very short story about a friend of mine,” said Miss Ruth. The children fell into line at once, Betty and Elsa on the right, Ben and Alice on the left.
“I was in a small country town one summer with this friend,” Miss Ruth began, “and some one asked her to take a Sunday-school class of boys who were full of mischief and fun. For awhile, that first Sunday, everything went well; then, just as my friend was explaining the lesson to the boys at one side, she felt something drop into her lap, and turning, she saw a little green snake. Those boys looked at her, expecting at least that she would scream. The snake wriggled and tried to escape, but the boy who had brought him was too quick, and grasped the snake; and he was so surprised when the teacher said: ‘That isn’t the way to hold him. Don’t you see you are making him uncomfortable?’ So she took hold of him.”
“The boy or the snake?” asked Ben, quick as a flash.