Isabel ran in at this moment and carried Lilian off with her. “I brought over Cathalina’s sweater. She left it in Wiggly after the circus. Say, Lilian, I’ve counted eighteen canoes beside the war canoe. It holds seventeen by actual count of seats. Aren’t they the prettiest things?—that deep blue and all painted up new!”
“You are like Shakespeare, Isabel, closing up your speech with two lines that rhyme.”
“What?—O, ‘blue’ and ‘new’. Yes, I’m a great poet.”
“Can you paddle, Isabel?”
“Just a little, but I want to learn to do it well. I can swim if I do tip over, but I want to be an expert, ha-ha!” and Isabel struck an attitude of great dignity.
“I think that most of the Greycliff girls can swim, but I want to get the strokes that this teacher will give us. I do think it important to be a good swimmer if you have the opportunity to learn. Father will be so delighted if I do these things.”
“We’ve been assigned to tables. Goodbye; I must hunt mine up.”
Lilian found herself with a new councillor and a group of girls entirely unknown to her, but it does not take long for campers with common interests to become acquainted.
“Who serves first?” asked one.