“I’ve made a bet with my councillor that I’ll not touch a piece of candy for a week. If I lose I have to give her a box of candy and if I win I don’t get anything.”
“A clear conscience, Flo,” suggested Betty.
“That’s funny,” said another of the girls, “why wouldn’t you get anything?”
“You see, I was the one that did all the betting. She wouldn’t.”
“Wait till I get home,—I’m going to have a regular candy eat!” This was a pretty little girl from Laugh-a-lot, and so fat that she was almost square. “But Mother said that was one reason she was sending me to camp, so I wouldn’t want sodas and candy every other minute.”
“What are you going to buy, Marjorie?—if it’s not too inquisitive to ask, I need to have suggestions on things I may need.” Betty pulled out her list.
“A pair of hiking shoes, another pair of sneakers, besides, of course, some candy and a sundae. Which is the best place for sundaes?”
“Will the girls,” came the announcement from the head table, “whose parents want them to have shoes in Bath, please rise? I have the list, but want to be sure that there is no mistake. What are you standing for, Mary?”
“I need rubbers.”
“And you, Bertha?”