Quentina sprang to her feet.
"Boston! Oh, girls, you don't know how I want to see Boston, and Paul Revere's grave, and the Common, and the old State House, and Bunker Hill, and that lovely North Church where they hung the lantern, you know.
'Listen, my children, and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,'"
she began to chant impressively. "Oh, don't you just love that poem?"
"Who was Paul Revere?" asked Tilly, pleasantly.
"Paul Revere!" exclaimed Quentina, plainly shocked. "Who was Paul Revere!"
"Tilly!" scolded Genevieve, as soon as she could command her voice. "Quentina, that's only some of Tilly's nonsense. Tilly knows very well who Paul Revere was."
"Yes, of course she does; and we all do," interposed Elsie Martin. "But I'll own right up, I don't know half as much about all those historical things and places as I ought to."
"Neither do I," chimed in Bertha. "Just because they're right there handy, and we can go any time, we—"