"And I!" came in chorus. "We'll be chambermaids," said a party who had just donned bathing suits of blue flannel.
"All right! Get to work!" commanded the crowd. "You have on just the dress for the business."
"Well, Mrs. Ingalls," smilingly encouraged a plump matron, "I suppose we might do as good cooking here as we have done at home in times of emergency. Shall we try?"
"I'm agreeable," laughed the lady. "That is, if we can manage the range."
"Oh, leave that to me," said her husband. "I guess I've handled ranges before." Which caused more merriment, since that gentleman's business was in the hardware line.
Fresh came another bevy of rosy faces, whose owners declared that they had been to a cooking school and knew all about it.
"Nothing like practical demonstration," bantered the young men.
"Hurrah!" cried one Hamilton, the pet of the house. "Give me the girl who can don a white apron, roll up her sleeves, and plunge her pretty arms into the flour barrel! That's what I'm looking for!" and he cleverly balanced a chair on his chin, amid a clamor of repartee and good-natured defiance.
"Go in, the whole ship's crew!" fervently urged a family man. "It will be the best fun of the season."