“I can bay the moon on a white bench with an elaborate pattern just as musically as on a plain, dark green one,” insisted Roger.
“Don’t pay any attention to him,” urged Ethel Brown, which crushing remark from a younger sister was rewarded by a hair-pull effectively delivered by Roger.
“Benches and chairs and small tables for lemonade and cocoa”
“Yow!” squealed Ethel.
“Now who’s baying the moon?” inquired her brother.
“Let’s decide on the cross-barred kind,” decreed Dorothy.
“The Lady of the Garden has made her decision,” announced James, tooting through his hands as if he were a herald making an announcement. “Now for the shapes. How many are you going to have, Lady?”
“I think there ought to be a very large bench that would hold almost all the Club, and then one or two smaller benches and two or three chairs and two small tables for lemonade and cocoa.”
“And to hold the Secretary’s book when she’s writing,” urged Ethel Blue who held the office of scribe and had not always found herself conveniently situated to do her work.