“Tod, be still!” commanded Budge. “I began it first.”
“But I finked it fyst,” expostulated Toddie.
[Ilustration: BOTH BOYS TUMBLED INTO THE ROOM]
“I’ll tell you what, then, Tod—I’ll tell ’em about it an’ you worry ’em to do it. That’ fair, isn’t it?” and then, without awaiting the result of Toddie’s deliberations Budge continued:
“What we want is a picnic. Papa’ll lend you the carriage, and we’ll get in it and go up to the Falls, and have a lovely day of it. That’s just the nicest place I ever saw. You can swing us in the big swing there, an’ take us in swimmin’, an’ row us in a boat, an’ buy us lemonade at the hotel, an’ we can throw stones in the water, an’ paddle, an’ catch fish, an’ run races. All these other things—not the first ones I told you about—we can do for ourselves, an’ you an’ Aunt Alice can lie on the grass under the trees, an’ smoke cigars, an’ be happy, ’cause you’ve made us happy. That’s the way papa does. An’ you must take lots of lunch along, ’cause little boys gets pretty empty-feeling when they go to such places. Oh, yes—an’ you can throw Terry in the water an’ make him swim after sticks—I’ll bet he can’t get away there without our catching him.”
“But de lunch has got to be lots,” said Toddie, “else dere won’t be any fun—not one bittie. An’ you’ll take us, won’t you? We’ze been dreadful good all mornin’. I’ze singed Sunday songs until my froat’s all sandy.”
“All what?” asked Mrs. Burton.
“Sandy,” replied Toddie. “Don’t you know how funny it feels to rub sand between your hands when you hazhn’t got djuvs on? If you don’t, I’ll go bring you in some.”
“Your aunt will take your word for it,” said Mr. Burton, as his wife did not respond.
“An’ we’ll be awful tired after the picnic’ done,” said Budge, “an’ you can hold us in your arms in the carriage all the way back. That’s the way papa an’ mamma does.”