“I’d like that all right,” Barbara smiled. “I was just wishing I could go out in this sparkling air and not get my feet wet.”
Mrs. Martin was glad to permit them to accompany the gardener’s boy and an hour after lunch, the school bus started down the hill road, filled almost to overflowing with laughing, singing, joyous girls, who felt that the holiday spirit was abroad.
“Watch out for a first robin!” Betsy shouted.
“Or violets,” Barbara sniffed the warm earthy, fragrant air. “I just know there are some over yonder in that ferny dell.”
“More likely we’d find them in that sunny sheltered meadow or some fence corner.”
When the town was reached, the girls tried to be more sedate. When the bus stopped at the post-office they could not decide which one should have the honor of going in to inquire for the mail, with Micky, who, of course, would be needed to carry out the pouch. Since they all wished to be the one selected, Betsy cried, “Let’s compromise and all go.”
This they did, tumbling out of the bus with such a merry rush that old “Si” Peters, who for years had sat all day long on the bench in front of the post-office, leaned forward on his cane and chuckled, although he chewed faster than ever, if such a feat were possible.
Betsy nudged Babs, as she nodded toward the old man who was a town character. “See how his chin beard points up,” she whispered. “Honest Injun, I believe he’s going to speak to us.”
Nor was she wrong. “Good-day, gals! Be ye all from the seminary up top the hill?” he inquired pleasantly.
“Yes, we are,” Virginia replied kindly. Virginia was always kind to everyone whom she met of whatever station.