“Your form is just as good or bad as your knee. Get that into shape, and I’m willing to bet your form will take care of itself.”
“Sounds like sense to me,” Laura abetted her. “Why not try it, Billie? I tell you what! Ted has been at me for a long time to get up a picnic on the lake. To-morrow’s Saturday. How about it, everybody? Any objections?”
“Not a one, that I can think of,” returned Billie, with a smile. “This is excellent picnic weather and we want to make the most of it.”
“Before the lake gets frozen over with ice,” chuckled Laura. “All right. I’ll tell Ted it’s a go.”
Edina shied like an unbroken colt at the mention of boys.
“We git along together like rattlesnakes and coyotes. I don’t like them and they don’t like me no—any—better. You’d better leave me out of this here picnic. I’ll spoil it all for you.”
“Nothing doing!” said Billie decidedly. “You no go, I no go either. The boys don’t bite and I’m sure you don’t, ’Dina.” With a severity, belied by the twinkle in her eye, she added: “You’ve got to learn to get along with the boys, you know. It’s an important part of your education.”
A few minutes over the telephone were sufficient to arrange with the boys for the following day’s fun. A few moments more in the kitchen provided for the hearty appetites of a healthy group of boys and girls. Clarice promised to put up a hamper of good things that would make “yo’ eyes pop clean out o’ yo’ haids.”
“Now all we have to do,” said Laura contentedly, “is to go to bed and pray for a clear day to-morrow.”
Surely, the following day might have been an answer to any one’s prayer for fine weather. It was one of those lovely early fall days when the sun warms the blood and the tang of crisp air sets it dancing.