“Girls, you’ll have to go to Mrs. Fisher’s. Be quick as you can!”
“I don’t want to a bit,” said Gypsy, who was sitting in a pool of water.
“Well, I’m going,” announced Sarah, with unheard-of decision. “Camping out is very nice, but drowning is another thing.”
“Well—I—suppose it would be a—little—dryer,” said Gypsy, slowly.
The girls were soon dressed, and Tom lighted a lantern and went with them. A few peals of thunder growled sullenly down the valley, and one bright flash of lightning glared far through the forest. Sarah was afraid she should be struck. Gypsy was thinking how grand it was, and wished she could be out in a midnight storm every week.
It was after midnight, and every one at Mr. Fisher’s was asleep; but Tom knocked them up, and Mr. Fisher was very much amused, and Mrs. Fisher was very kind and hospitable, and built up a fire, and said they should be perfectly dry and warm before they went to bed.
So the girls bade Tom good-night, and he went back to Mr. Hallam, and they, feeling very cold and sleepy and drenched, were glad enough to be taken care of, and put to bed like babies, after Mrs. Fisher’s good, motherly fashion.
“Sarah,” said Gypsy, sleepily, just as Sarah was beginning to dream. “A feather-bed, and—and pillows! (with a little jump to keep awake long enough to finish her sentence) are a little better—on the whole—than a mud—pud——”
Just there she went to sleep. The next day it poured from morning till night. That was just what Mr. Hallam and Tom liked, so they fished all day, and the girls amused themselves as best they might in Mr. Fisher’s barn. The day after it rained in snatches, and the sun shone in little spasms between. A council of exigencies met in Mr. Hallam’s tent, and it was unanimously decided to go home. Even Gypsy began to long for civilized life, though she declared that she had never in all her life had such a good time as she had had that week.
So Mr. Fisher harnessed and drove them briskly down the mountain, and “from afar off” Gypsy saw her mother’s face, watching for her at the door—a little anxious; very glad to see her back.