“Push myself round on a raft in the orchard-swamp; it’s real fun.”
“Why, I never heard of such a thing!” said Joy, looking shocked.
“Well, it’s splendid; you ought to come up to Yorkbury, and go out with me. Tom would make you a raft.”
“What do the people say?” said Joy, looking at her mother.
“Oh, there aren’t any people there to see. If there were, they wouldn’t say anything. I have just the nicest times. Winnie and I tipped over last spring,—clear over, splash!”
“You will ruin your complexion,” remarked her aunt, laying down her novel. “I suppose you never wear a veil.”
“A veil? Dear me, no! I can’t bear the feeling of a veil. I wore one in the cars through, to keep the cinders off. Then, besides that, I row and coast, and,—oh, I forgot, walking on the fences; it’s real fun if you don’t tumble off.”
“Walking on the fences!”
“Oh, yes. I always go in the fields where there’s nobody round. Then I like to climb the old walls, where you have to jump when the stones roll off from under you.”