As they sat down to dinner, John began showing symptoms of disapproval of his soup (chowder, the scouts called it), and carefully placed his dish upon the rock before him.
“The chowder smells delicious, girls,” said May, as the aroma rose to her nose.
“It’s just as good as it smells, too,” said Julie.
“Is every one served now, Jule?” called Joan, who was waitress for the day.
“Yes, and all anxious to begin—hurry and sit down,” Julie replied.
Joan took her plate and sat down nearest the board from which she had to serve the dinner. John waited smiling knowingly as he sat and watched the others.
Mr. Lee was the first to take a spoonful of chowder. He frowned for a moment, then took a second taste. His mouth puckered and he looked questioningly at Eliza as if to ask her what was wrong with it.
May had already taken her spoonful and immediately cried: “For goodness sake! Who cooked this chowder?”
“Verny—why?” hastily asked the girls.
“Why? Well just taste it!”