“Jessica Dee Holley.”
“Ha! ‘Dee’ sounds like an old Newburyport name; leastways I’ve seen it in old entries.”
“That was her mother’s name. But she isn’t alone, although she has no near relatives, because she’s a Camp Fire Girl, and we ‘cleave to our Camp Fire Sisters whenever, wherever we find them!’” Sesooā threw back her head with the same loyal gesture as that wherewith she had faced the world after stopping the horse; the golden firefly in her eyes hovering directly over the Camp Fire flame in her heart.
From the ranks of the juvenile dancers came, now, the joyful lilt of another song.
“Two by two,
Two by two,
Here we go!
With merry hearts,
And a cheerful song,
As we march in the double row.”