“Yes. But we haven’t gotten to cakes yet.”
“Want any orders?”
“Why, yes. I hadn’t thought of it, but we’re going to make some money, or try to. How about an order of fudge for your next meeting?”
“Fine—unless it’s too expensive.”
“The S. P.’s will be very fair in their charges, especially if our parents give us the materials. It won’t cost any more than buying stuff down town.”
“You will depress trade, Jean,” said Bob Metcalf.
“Not enough to hurt, Bob.” Jean assured him with a dimple in her hot cheek. Thank fortune, so far the party was a success.
After the meal, the guests were invited to inspect the picture gallery while the tables were cleared and removed. Jimmy, Billy, and even the judge coming up from below, carried baskets of dishes down to the kitchen. “If this is going to be a permanent cafeteria,” said the judge, “I’ll put in a lift for the girls. Who knows? Perhaps Jean will support me in my old age with her sky parlor.”
“Great scheme, Judge,” said Jimmy. “You certainly would have customers with meals like this.”
The picture gallery was examined with interest by the Wizards and by the girls who had been invited. There was the Wizard picture, well labeled. Several funny incidents at school had been recorded in art by Phoebe. The seven sibyls had the faces of the real girls cut from old snapshots and pasted on the figures. They were in their yellow robes, which were carried out in long draperies that joined yellow streamers and whirled around their heads. “The S. P.’s in a tornado,” suggested John Taylor, a jolly sophomore and a friend of Billy’s.