CHAPTER XVII.
THE SNOWY OWL
"I think it is a horrid bother, if you want to know!" said Willy.
"Willy Merryweather! aren't you ashamed of yourself? I never heard anything so odious, when we are all so happy, and everything is so perfectly lovely. I don't see what you mean."
"I don't care, it is a bother. Nothing is the way it used to be; it's all nothing but spooning, all over the lot."
"I should not think you would use vulgar expressions, anyhow, Willy."
"'Spooning' isn't vulgar," said Willy, sulkily. "I've heard Pa say it, so there! And—look here, Kitty! Of course, it's all corking, and so on, and anyhow, girls like that kind of fuss; but it does spoil everything, I tell you. Why, Pa couldn't get a crew for the war canoe yesterday. He wanted to go to Pine Cove—at least I did, awfully, and he said all right, so we would; and then Jerry was off with Margaret in the Keewaydin, and Bell and Jack were out in the woods fiddling, and Peggy and Phil—I say, Kitty! You don't suppose they are going to get spoony, do you?"
Kitty looked very wise, and pursed her lips and nodded her head with an air of deep mystery.
"You don't!" repeated Willy, looking aghast.
"Hush, Willy!" said Kitty. "Don't say a word! don't breathe it to anybody! I hope—I think they are!"