“What was that?” exclaimed Mabel, as a whirr of wings, and the passage of some body through the underbrush, startled her.
“A quail,” answered Natalie. “I just got a glimpse of it. Oh, see the lovely flowers!” and she rushed over to a patch of ox-eyed daisies, or black-eyed-Susans, and, pulling a bunch thrust them into her belt, creating a decidedly picturesque effect.
Marie pulled some maiden-hair ferns, and weaving a chaplet as she walked along, dropped it on Natalie’s head, for none of the girls wore hats.
“Oh, isn’t that sweet!” exclaimed Mabel. “Wait, I must snap that!” and she posed Natalie for her picture. Then they all had to be crowned with ferns and “snapped”, after which a group picture was taken, with them all sitting on a fallen tree, Marie taking the group without herself in it and then Natalie performing a like service for her chum.
“The spring and the ruins of the farmhouse at last!” cried Marie, when another mile had been covered. “We are almost there now.”
“Then let’s eat here,” suggested Alice. “We can get a drink, and olives always make me so deliciously thirsty.”
“That’s what I say,” chimed in Marie, and then, finding a little grassy spot they sat down tailor fashion and ate.
“It’s the best meal I’ve had in a week,” declared Alice.
“Are there any sandwiches left?” asked Mabel. “That’s my best indorsement.”
“One or two,” said Mrs. Bonnell. “Perhaps we had better save them.” And to this the girls agreed.