“I don’t suppose the poor fellow knew how it sounded in English, but it certainly was an awful slap at Lil,” giggled Bobby.
“Well, I wish they wouldn’t give us languages at High,” sighed Nellie Agnew, Dr. Arthur Agnew’s daughter, when the laugh had subsided, and still looking off over the prospect. “I know my German is dreadful.”
“Let’s petition to do away with Latin and Greek, too,” suggested Bobby, who was always deficient in those studies. “‘Dead languages’—what’s the good of ’em if they are deceased, anyway? I’ve got a good mind to ask Old Dimple a question next time.”
“What’s the question, Bobby?” asked Jess, lazily.
“Why, if they’re ‘dead languages,’ who killed ’em? He ought to have a monument, whoever he was—and if he’d only buried them good and deep he might have had two monuments.”
“If you gave a little more time to studying books and less time to studying mischief——” began the girl in brown, when suddenly Nellie startled them all by exclaiming:
“Look there! See that girl down there? What do you suppose she is doing?”
Some of them jumped up to look over the edge of the rock on which they rested; but Jess Morse refused to be aroused.
“What’s the girl doing?” she drawled. “It’s got to be something awfully funny to get me on my feet again——”
“Hush!” commanded the girl in brown.