“Well, in the first place, it isn’t a regular seaside place at all. I mean there aren’t any hotels and boardwalks and things like that. It’s about ten miles from Bay City, and there they do have everything like that. But Plum Beach is just wild, the way it always has been. And I don’t see why, because it’s the best beach I ever saw—ever so much finer than at Bay City.”
“I’ll like the beach.”
“Yes, I know you will. And because it’s sort of wild and desolate, and off by itself that way, you can have the best time there you ever dreamed of. Last year we put on our bathing suits when we got up, and kept them on all day. You go in the water, you see, and then, if you lie down on the beach for half an hour, you’re dry. The sun shines right down on the sand, and it’s as warm as it can be.”
“I suppose that’s why you like it so much—because you don’t have the trouble of dressing and undressing.”
“It’s one reason,” said Dolly, who never pretended about anything, and was perfectly willing to admit that she was lazy. “But it’s nice to have the beach to yourselves, too, the way we do. You see, when we get there we’ll find tents all set up and ready for us.”
“Is there any fishing?”
Dolly smacked her lips.
“You bet there is!” she said. “Best sea bass you ever tasted, and about all you can catch, too! And it tastes delicious, because the fish down there get cooked almost as soon as they’re caught. And there are lobsters and crabs—and it’s good fun to go crabbing. Then at low tide we dig for clams, and they’re good, too—I’ll bet you never dreamed how good a clam could be!”
“How about the other things—milk, and eggs, and all those!”