“Oh, it’s coming along all right,” Frank said.
“It’s surprising how quickly and how correctly they’re getting the language.”
“I’m going to begin reading aloud to them next week,” Pete announced. “That’ll be a picnic.”
“It’s been a long fight,” Ralph said contentedly. “But we’ve won out. We’ve got them going. I knew we would.” His eyes went to Peachy’s face, but once there, their look of triumph melted to tenderness.
“What are we going to read them?” Honey asked idly. He did not really listen to Pete’s answer. His eyes, sparkling with amusement, had gone back to Lulu, who still sat seriously practising her lesson. Red lips, little white teeth, slender pink tongue seemed to get into an inextricable tangle over the simple monosyllables.
“Leave that to me!” Pete was saying mysteriously. “I’ll have them reading and writing by the end of another two months.”
“It’s curious how long it’s taken them to get over that terror of us,” said Billy. “I cannot understand it.”
“Oh, they’ll explain why they’ve been so afraid,” said Frank, “as soon as they’ve got enough vocabulary. We cannot know, until they tell us how many of their conventions we have broken, how brutal we may have seemed.”
“And yet,” Billy went on, “I should think they’d see that we wouldn’t do anything that wasn’t for their own good. Well, just as soon as I can put it over with them, I’m going to give them a long spiel on the gentleman’s code. I don’t believe they’ll ever be frightened of us again. Hello!”
Lulu had tottered over to their group, supporting herself by the ledge of rock. She pulled herself upright, balancing precariously. She put her sharp little teeth close, parted her lips and produced: