"No, what?"
"When we've got our real full-grown front teeth, we won't be able to call it the Fang Club any more, because we won't have any fangs."
"What will we call it then?"
"I don't know. We'll think of something."
"What about the Dental Maturity Club?" suggested Julian; but of course they didn't pay any attention to him.
After the watermelon had been eaten right down to the rind, the little boys repaired to Craneycrow and the girls went off to visit Mrs. Cheever.
Tom Parks sighed and let his belt out a notch. Then he and Julian and Joe, for no particular reason and not really thinking about it, climbed up in the Vogelhart willow tree. Sun and food had made them lazy, and each of them found a perching place and sat there like a sleepy baboon high among the wind-sifting, sun-sifting leaves.
