“How can we bring the spring over here?” scoffed Louise. “It goes straight down the other way.”
“We’ll dig a little ditch, of course,” insisted Corene. “Or if we’re too busy to do it, and we probably will be for days to come, we’ll get the boys to make one for us. The earth isn’t rooty here, see, it’s nice and soft,” she poked up a ditch in illustration. “And it will be splendid to have running water at the door for other purposes.”
“Corey, you ought to be a plumber!” roared Grace, precipitating one of those unwarranted outbursts of mirth that always ended work for the time being. The girls were just like that, and they couldn’t seem to help it.
The appearance of a surprised bunny on a stump checked the hilarity, and the inexperienced ones wanted to throw cracker crumbs to the stubby-tailed, long-eared little animal.
“And make a house pet of it!” exclaimed Corene. “Can you imagine that bunny stealing your fudge, Louise? He wouldn’t know it was stealing if you made him ‘to home’ like that.”
“Seems to me,” Louise frowned, “knowledge always makes one snippy. I don’t mean that you are snippy, Corey dear, but to turn away a nice, little, gray bunny, because we know he will come again if we treat him decently. Doesn’t it seem a lot nicer to be sociable and take the consequences?”
“It does not!” exclaimed Cleo. “Because animals are made to be subject to man, not to be his equal. Here, Master Sammy Littletail, take yourself off. Shoo!” and Cleo tossed a harmless little pine cone after the scurrying bunny.
“Oh, all right. If that’s the way you feel about it I suppose we will have to shoo everything. But just the same, I left a nice square hole in the back of my outdoor buffet, for a bird sanctuary!” Louise confessed naively.
“Someone’s coming!” announced Grace. “Let me straighten my doormat.”
A young woman in camp uniform—the service suit of skirt and blouse—came up from the roadway. She was smiling broadly and sent that greeting on ahead to the Scouts.