Mrs. Morton was already descending the stairs; she did not respond.
Ernest turned in despair to Sherm, who was examining the neat stitching ruefully.
Sherm grinned; “Guess we might as well take our medicine. Score one for the kids!”
“I think they might take a joke the way it was intended.”
“They seem to have taken the joke and a few other things besides.”
Sherm chuckled. Ernest laughed, too, a little sulkily.
“We’re elected to stay at home all right, but I’ll get ahead of them if it takes a month!”
By the time the boys had rearrayed themselves and come downstairs, the occupants of the grape arbor had vanished. They didn’t return until the 175enemy had departed for a ride to soothe its ruffled feelings.
The girls retired to bed early, as innocent young people should.
“Did you have a good time at Mamie’s last night?” asked Chicken Little at breakfast the next morning.