“Bet you, you won’t,” said Ray, sceptically.
“You’d do it for about two days, and then you’d give it up. Girls never stick to anything.”
“Oh, Ray Emmons!” came in an indignant chorus. “Girls stick as well as boys.”
“Seems to me that Edith Craig stuck to the head of her jography class all last winter, and you boys couldn’t help it,” said Daisy Pelham, triumphantly.
CRICKET TRYING TO CATCH THE MINNOWS.
“Oh, jography! I wasn’t talking about jography. Bet you I can hit that squirrel, plump,” thinking it better to change the subject.
When they came to the little brook, a deep pool below a rough bridge looked so cool and clean that they loitered to throw stones in it, and scare the minnows gliding around in its transparent depths. Further down, among the bulrushes, the frogs croaked and jumped.
“Oh, I say,” cried Harry Pelham, “let’s catch some frogs, and have frogs’ legs for lunch!”
“Oh, don’t touch the slimy things,” pleaded Daisy. “They squirm and squeak so. Do let’s go on.”