Though Doris and Marshall were as unlike as it was possible for two persons to be, they were the best of friends. Marshmallow, who answered to his given name only when his mother called, was liked by nearly everyone in the neighborhood, but he was subjected to a great deal of teasing because he was decidedly fat. He was a year older than Doris but frequently was mistaken as the younger of the two.
If Marshmallow were easy going and perhaps inclined to be a trifle lazy, Doris made up for his lack of energy. She was studious, and tremendously interested in athletics and music, particularly the latter. It was her ambitious dream that some day she would win fame as a singer in grand opera. Doris was utterly without vanity and would never admit that she was talented. As for her appearance, she never could understand why her friends were envious of her dark red curly hair and deep blue eyes.
“Here the mailman comes at last,” she sighed in relief, as she saw the man turn in at the house next door. “Oh, I do hope he has something for me.”
A moment later the postman stopped at the Mallow gate and began to look through a pack of letters.
“Here you are, young lady,” he said with a pleasant smile.
“Two!” Doris gasped in delight. “That’s better than I had hoped for.” Quickly, she scanned the postmarks. “And this one is from Kitty, too!”
Eagerly, she ripped open the envelope. The letter, written in an almost illegible scrawl, was brief, for Kitty Norris had never been a satisfactory correspondent.
“Kitty hasn’t made any plans for the summer yet,” she informed Marshmallow as she replaced the letter in the envelope. “She thinks it would be fun if we could go to some summer camp.”
“Well, why don’t you?”
“I wish I could—but there’s the problem of money.”