"I'll tell you what, boys." It was Shirley's voice from the rear room, where she was cleaning out the big closet for a dark room. "We do want that strip painted before lunch. It won't take you more than ten minutes. While we are fixing up this table and unpacking the baskets, you finish that."
"Right-O, Shirley!" The boys were on their feet instantly and they went to work without another word.
"Oh girls, doesn't it look perfectly wonderful!" exclaimed Bet, coming into the room just as the two boys laid aside their brushes. "Now you shall eat!"
"A crust of bread and a glass of water, I suppose!"
"You suppose nothing of the sort. You know Auntie Gibbs put it up and therefore it has to be good!" exclaimed Kit. "But you boys won't get a bite to eat until you've washed your faces."
"Now we rebel! This is the limit. The worm turns at last. We're going to eat this way." And they did.
Auntie Gibbs had outdone herself on the lunch. There was fried chicken and apple fritters, still piping hot. There was jelly and hot biscuits. The table was loaded.
"Here Kit, open up that box of marshmallows. And put one in each cup of cocoa."
"One! Why you stingy thing. I'll not drink it unless I have three!" exclaimed Bob.
"All right, give the child what he wants!" Bet agreed.