The picnic marked midsummer’s festivity. Chickadee Patrol invited members from other camps out to the Ledge, and when Pell insisted that Thistle and her aids “do up enough grub” for those invited, a strike was narrowly averted.
“You know, Pell Mell, the Mantons will bring barrels of things to eat, so why should we make samples of our miserable home-cooking failures?” demanded Thistle. Betta was standing hard by egging her on.
“They will bring the lunch, that is, The Lunch, but what about a little four o’clock snack? There are silver springs out there with water cress on the cob, and I know our girls are never loath to nibble a bite or two when out on location,” Pell reminded her mutinous crew. That was Pell. She had a way of getting things done and at the same time making a joke of it.
“Is Nora going to be inducted?” asked Betta. Next to Alma, Betta was the most avowed champion of the girl from the Nest.
“Yes, we had a letter today and Becky told us we would have a business meeting Wednesday, when your precious Babe Nora will be led to the stake. She will accept the halter of allegiance to Pell, Betta and the rest of the mob——”
“If you feel so frisky, Pell, I wish you would work off some of the extra on this tin can. I am supposed to open it with a souvenir trick can opener. I am sure Betta brought it from the state fair, B. C. 150. It has all the ear marks of antiquity without any of the teeth,” declared Wyn, who was struggling with an implement, curious and wonderful.
“That’s a perfectly good can opener,” defended Betta. “Jimbsy purloined it from his own mother’s table——”
“Which supports my theory,” interrupted Wyn. “His mother’s table is none other than antique. But there! It did cut—my hand into the bargain,” and she defied all her first-aid rules by sticking a finger in her mouth. “Glad it cut something.”
“Where’s Alma?” asked Laddie. “She always gets out of the drudgery.”
“Alma was tagged along to town to buy things,” explained Thistle. “Becky is hearing her lessons on the way. Alma is our little freshman, you know, girls, and while she doesn’t wear mourning, she is often in sorrow.”