“Maybe they’ve drifted ashore,” said Tubby, hopefully.
“If they have I’ll bet they chose the other one,” said Merritt, “it’s what they used to call at school ‘the perversity of inanimate things.’”
“Phew!” exclaimed Tubby, “don’t spring any more like that. I didn’t bring a dictionary.”
It was about noon when they came to a halt in a ravine near the lake shore and sat down on a log to rest.
“Gee, I wish we had something to eat,” groaned Merritt.
“Ever hear of a fairy godmother?” inquired Tubby, gazing abstractedly up through the tree tops.
“Well, if you aren’t the limit, Tubby. What on earth have fairy godmothers to do——”
“They were always on the job with what was most wanted, I believe,” pursued Tubby.
“Oh, don’t talk rot. Let’s—— Gee whiz! I’ll take it all back, Tubby. You are a real, genuine, blown-in-the-glass fairy godmother.”
Merritt’s exclamation was called forth by the fact that Tubby had produced, with the air of a necromancer, two packets of sandwiches and ditto of cake.