"That sounds like a good time, even if it will be a dry one," declared Zan, giggling at her pun.
"Perhaps you've never heard the old saying of the something-or-other who always laughs at his own jokes," retorted Hilda.
"Perhaps you're not aware that my native wit is actually penetrating your thick——" Zan caught herself just in time.
"Huh! Afraid of a demerit! Why didn't you conclude?" dared Hilda.
"Pooh! I should worry over one little demerit when I can relieve congestion of my manners! So here's to you, Hilda, old girl. I'll put it over you, old top! Now, does my native wit penetrate your thick cocoanut?" chuckled Zan maliciously.
Although every one laughed at Zan's taking the dare in such a wholesale sweep, Miss Miller felt obliged to change the subject, while Elena quietly did her duty in noting a demerit for the culprit.
Wickee accompanied his friends to the house, and stretched out in front of the log fire the moment it was blazing in the chimney-place. The girls sat about, enjoying the cosy warmth for a few minutes before going to the small library.
"Let's bring the books out here, it is so much nicer and makes you forget that we are not in front of a genuine campfire," suggested Miss Miller.
This idea met with approval, and soon every one was squatted in a circle about the fire. Wick, be it understood, holding his prior position of comfort in front of the blaze.
"Miss Miller, did you ever take any special interest in bird life?" asked Elena, who was turning over the pages of a book on birds[B] which she had found in the doctor's bookcase.