“Just look at those—panties?”
“Oh, don’t you remember——”
“Sweet Alice Ben Bolt.”
“No, not Alice, but the night we fought over those bloomers,” recalled Treble.
“They’re not bloomers. They’re rompers.”
Then began that whole foolish debate which ended up by Thistle declaring they might be overalls for all it mattered, if only the girls would let Nora tell her story. Pell and Treble agreed. The introduction was briefly outlined for Becky’s benefit, then Nora was allowed to tell it as it appeared to her—that is, she was allowed to begin to tell it that way, but what with the interruptions, the suggestions, the questions, and the qualifying clauses, it was small wonder the willing culprit made poor headway.
As the story took the shape of a confession Nora seemed to be the culprit, but judging from the approval voiced by the multitude they all had little regard for her brand of “crime.” In other words, Nora only imagined she had offended, the entire detail made a most interesting story as it was told around the campfire blaze of Chickadee Patrol.
She admitted frankly that her early notions were anything but practical, she bravely recounted her weakness for fancy things, including ivory bureau sets and pink ribbons, to which more than one Chickadee added her own little admission, in fact, Pell said she always did and always would love pink; brown khaki and smoked pearl buttons to the contrary notwithstanding.
The telling of her attempt at attic tenancy brought forth peal after peal of laughter, in which Nora joined. Then she told all about her disguise as the fabled and famous prince.
“I think it is all too jolly for words,” insisted Laddie, “and what do you say, girls, to our adopting Prince Adorable for our mascot?”