Miss Pickett. Your work is very creditable indeed. My mother when she was a girl made alum baskets and wax flowers, and wreaths from the hair of relatives, but these are prettier.
Lucille. That’s a compliment. Your basket is prettier than the camelias made from Aunt Susan’s back hair.
Miss Morgan. I think you girls are forgetting the most important feature of all.
Kitty. (counting on her fingers) Hiking, swimming, drill—
Betty. Dinner!
Lucille. I was hoping some one would mention that.
Miss Morgan. Ruth and Hope are the dinner girls this week.
Ruth. Well, we’ll try to do ourselves proud. (Exit with Hope.)
Miss Pickett. I confess I am hungry.
Hilda. Ruth is our star cook.