"The feast of reason and the flow of soul has come to an end," announced Miss Billy, as she collected the written reports, and laid them in a neat pile on the grass. "But our mundane bodies are yet to be fed. On yonder porch there sits a jug, and in the jug there is some beer—only root, however. Launcelot, if I pour the drink which cheers but not inebriates, will you pass the cakes?"
"Yes-um," replied the boy with alacrity.
Marie Jean's face was expressive of a little disappointment as Francis rose from the grass and followed Miss Billy and Launcelot to the porch.
"I wonder if I can help her," she said to Ginevra.
Ginevra's unchildish eyes turned upon the speaker. "She don't need no help," she said slowly. "Mr. Francis needn't 'a' gone. He just went 'cause he likes her company-ship."
The children had finished their root beer, and noisily rounded the corner of the house; and Marie Jean had reluctantly departed with repeated assurances of her aid in the future, when Miss Billy and Francis sat down in the deserted yard.
"It has been a great success," he said. "I cannot thank you enough for permitting me to enjoy the morning with you. It's a fine work, Miss Lee."
The girl looked up brightly. "It was interesting," she admitted. "The little ones have worked so faithfully and well. I am proud of them all. But there is so much yet to accomplish. I think Cherry Street has been effectually aroused, and we can depend on the children to keep it awake. But it will take so much money to do what we wish, and our hands are practically empty."
Francis was silent for a few moments. "Are there no ways of raising money?" he said finally. "Seems to me there's energy enough in this club to earn some."