“Excuse the question, Eloise; I forgot our picnic garb. I remember the girls said that they usually go by trolley from Bath.”
It must be admitted that a substantial lunch adds much to the joy of such picnics. This one was especially good. The corn was boiled in a big kettle, which was borrowed or hired for the occasion. Such perfect and tender ears they were. Boiling was substituted for roasting and saved much time, a second lot of ears going in the pot as soon as the first came out. Potato salad and pickles, all the sandwiches one could eat, cake, ripe pears and all the milk one could drink,—what more could they ask? Yet still came marshmallows, passed around to be toasted over the embers.
“We’ll start home early, girls,” announced the young director of athletics. “Then we can take our time, change often if we get tired, and everything will be in our favor, no wind, and tide and current in the right direction. I believe we could almost float home!”
It was not quite like floating, however, and the girls earned their points for paddling. But without trouble they all reached camp in good season, and in good humor to think that they had carried through a twenty-mile paddle.
“How much do you think I paddled, Frances?” asked Cathalina, as they put away their paddles.
“O, you must have paddled half the way, in resting either Betty or me.”
“Scarcely that, I’m afraid. You paddled too long several times and wouldn’t let me take it, you know. You were afraid I’d get too tired.”
“Not at all. Wanted the points.”
“Never mind, I know you. You would take stern most of the way, too.”
“I wish you were coming to Greycliff next year, Frances,” said Betty. “How you would fit in with our crowd. You would love Polly and Juliet, and how proud we’d be of you!”