"January seems to be the time to do your thinking and planning; that's what the people who know tell me."
"It seems to be the time for some action," retorted Della, waving her hand at the blossoming branches about the room.
"Aren't they wonderful? I always knew you could bring them out quickly in the house after the buds were started out of doors, but these fellows didn't seem to be started at all—and look at them!"
"Mother says they've done so well because we've been careful to keep them evenly warm," said Ethel Brown. "Dorothy's got the finest piece of news to tell you. If she doesn't tell you pretty soon I shall come out with it myself!"
"O, let her tell her own secret!" remonstrated Blue. "What is it?"
You know that sloping piece of ground about a quarter of a mile beyond the Clarks' on the road to Mr. Emerson's?"
"You don't mean the field with the brook where Roger got the pussy willows?"
"This side of it. There's a lovely view across the meadows on the other side of the road, and the land runs back to some rocks and big trees."
"Certainly I know it," assented Ethel Blue. "There's a hillock on it that's the place I've chosen for a house when I grow up and build one."
"Well, you can't have it because I've got there first!"