"There wasn't any!" said Margaret.
"The principle remains the same," said Peggy, "as Miss Russell used to say."
"There is another thing!" said Margaret. "Your life out here, Bell, shows me how much girls can do; I mean in the active, outdoor, athletic way. More than I ever dreamed they could do. It really seems to me that, except just for the petticoats, you have very few drawbacks. I suppose it is having all the brothers. Why, you know as much as they do about the woods and all."
"Yes, it's partly the boys," said Bell; "but it is much more Papa. You see, from the time we could walk, he has always taken us out into the woods and fields, and made us use our eyes and ears, and talked to us about things. We should not know anything, if it were not for Papa."
"He does seem to know almost everything!" said Margaret. "I never saw any one like him."
"There isn't any one like him," said Gertrude, decidedly. "What have you got there, Margaret?"
Margaret had drawn a letter from her pocket, and was looking it over.
"An argument on my side," she said, smiling. "May I read it aloud?"
"Do! do!" cried all the girls.
Margaret smoothed out the crumpled pages affectionately. "He carried it in his pocket two days before he remembered to post it!" she said. "I judge from the date, and the appearance of the envelope. There was candy in his pocket, and"—she sniffed at the letter—"yes! tar, without doubt. Now listen!