“Humph!” grunted Jessie. “I just said I was hungry.”
“So are we all of us,” sang Lucile, cheerily. “And if my nose does not deceive me, there issueth from the regions of various kitchens a blithe and savory odor—as of fresh muffins, golden-yellow eggs, just fried to a turn, and luscious, juicy, crisp——” 126
“Oh, Lucy, don’t! I can’t bear it!” shrieked Jessie, covering her ears with her hands. “Eggs and bacon and—oh—oh——”
“No; bacon and eggs,” corrected Evelyn, soberly; “and cereal, with lots and oodles of rich cream—and maybe some marmalade——”
“Is this a conspiracy?” cried Jessie, glowering belligerently at the two mischievous faces. “Girls, if you only had an idea how hungry I am, you wouldn’t joke; it’s too serious.”
“My goodness, don’t you think we’re hungry, too?” cried Lucile. “Why, I’m so hungry a piece of dried bread would taste like—like——” She hunted desperately for a comparison.
“Ambrosia and nectar,” began Evelyn.
“And a pinch of angels’ food mixed in,” finished Lucile, laughing. “Why, I’d steal, murder, anything, for it!”
“My, you must be worse off than I am,” said Jessie, regarding her friend with awe. “I wouldn’t do all that for anything less than chicken.”
Then they all laughed, just because they couldn’t help it—the world was such a wonderful place to live in.