“Where are Eaton and Ethel?” asked Mr. Wales, counting up his party.
“They’ll be right along, I think, Mr. Wales,” answered Mary, sweetly, “but I don’t believe we’d better wait for them, do you? These boys didn’t really want to come, and I’m afraid they’ll run away if we don’t hurry.”
Babbie explained her scheme for adding excitement to the orange-rolling, and there was no doubt of its efficiency. The instant that Mr. Wales began making slits in the rinds of the oranges, so that the girls could poke pennies or half-pennies down the holes, the ten small boys became suddenly rigid with attention. They had come reluctantly, not exactly knowing what to expect, but when there was a prospect of coppers they became eagerness personified.
When all the oranges had been duly “stuffed,” the boys were stationed at the foot of the steep terrace, and the girls started five or six big oranges rolling down toward them. For an instant the ten hesitated, then they plunged wildly up the slope to capture the spoils. As each succeeded in getting an orange, he retreated to the foot of the hill, and began a frantic effort to eat down to his penny before any more oranges were started down the slope. One crafty but too confiding youth decided to pile his booty at the foot of the hill, hoping thus to gain time and distance his fellows. But while his back was turned, the pile disappeared. Another tried dropping the fruit into his blouse, but in the scramble several oranges fell out. The only safe way was to get the penny out as soon as you had secured the orange.
“Do you suppose they’ll die of indigestion?” gasped Mrs. Wales, breathless with laughter.
“Or be poisoned from those dirty pennies?” suggested Eleanor, anxiously.
“I guess not,” said Mr. Wales, cheerfully. “I don’t imagine their digestions are delicate, and you remember that the divers all kept their winnings in their mouths, so I don’t believe you need worry.”
All too soon the supply of oranges was exhausted and the tattered regiment departed, fairly wreathed in smiles, to buy sugar-cane and gloat over their friends who had not spent the morning so profitably.
“Wasn’t that too lovely?” sighed Mary, as the girls collected the remains of the orange-rolling into a basket for the gardener to throw away. “I saw a moving picture once of two little pickaninnies racing to see which could finish his slice of watermelon first. But they didn’t begin to eat so fast or look so funny as our boys.”
Just as she had finished speaking, Dr. Eaton and Miss Hale appeared around the corner of the house. He was carrying her parasol, and they were walking slowly and laughing and chatting in a very friendly fashion.