From that time until the bell rang Trixy stalled off five attempts at intrusion, by actual count. It seemed that even an essay contest, keen though it was, would not hold down the curious ones.
Gloria soon forgot her own fatigue, however, in her interest of the subject, and what between hunting up words, verifying vague beliefs in the great out doors, identifying queer little birds with downy whiskers over their eyes, (she had found one by the big oak tree, the queerest bird, that might have been a horned lark, but it was so young the marks could hardly be accepted as permanent,) these necessary interruptions rather delayed the actual progress of the last draft of the essay. But Gloria worked on, unconscious of draw-backs, enjoying the one task that befell her—original writing on the one original subject: Nature in The Great Outdoors.
“How come?” inquired Trixy, her own lamp already dimmed.
“Oh, I love it!” breathed Gloria. “The one trouble is, the theme is so unlimited, unrestricted. I believe one could write two thousand words on the life of a fern, it is all real, vivid and fascinating.”
“Because you know all about ferns, and hop toads and daddy-long-legs,” said Trixy. “Now, I would find it simpler to expand on the joy of home comforts. That’s one thing first rate at Altmount. The beds are swell!”
“And I’ll join you in similar praise directly,” promised Gloria. “Meanwhile I’ll drop the curtain. There’s no need of keeping you awake on my work.”
“Well, you know I’d stay awake if it would do you any good, Glo. But like saying your prayers, essay writing, according to the rules, must be individually executed. What I did for Jack was just the roughest suggestion, of course.”
“Poor Jack! I wonder if they’ll let her finish it tomorrow?”
“Likely, if she rests well. Physical exertion is the main restriction.”
Gloria was pondering, deeply, trying to fix up a difficult paragraph. Trixy heard her sigh and suggested: