"Then why don't we have tea parties, and why don't we meet every week to knit chest protectors for the people who eat one another?"
"Because we no longer live in a town full of old ladies with nothing to do."
"There was an old clergyman who used to make me shiver with his dreadful stories," added Miss Yard eagerly.
"Not exactly. While the rest of you knitted, one of the ladies used to read aloud from a book, written by a missionary who had spent thirty years upon an island in the Pacific; and he did mention that, when he first went there, the people were not vegetarians."
"And we sent him a lot of mufflers and mittens," cried Miss Yard.
"Yes, and he wrote back to say wool was much too warm for people who wore nothing at all."
"That's what made me shiver," said Miss Yard triumphantly. "It wasn't so much what they ate, as their walking about without clothes. They used to go to church with nothing on. It must have been dreadful for the poor clergyman. No wonder his health broke down. We must go back," said Miss Yard decidedly. "I can't think what made me so silly as to come here. Do you remember the lady who lived in a dandelion?"
"Now you really have puzzled me," laughed Nellie.
"A little yellow dandelion on a hill. There were no stairs to go up, but I didn't like it much in summer."
"I've got it! You mean the bungalow that belonged to Miss Winter. You didn't like her."