“Faugh! you wouldn’t really eat ’em?” began Tavia. But the boys laughed uproariously.
“Ain’t that just like a girl?” cried Johnny. “Woodchuck is as good eating as ’possum, or coon, or squirrel.”
“That’s all right,” laughed Tavia, tossing her head. “Everybody to their taste, as the old woman said when she kissed her cow. I’ll choose squirrel—and I reckon Doro will, too—and the bigger boys. And I know where we can get some, for there’s no law on squirrels in this county. We’ll have some potatoes in the bake, too.”
“Goody!” cried Roger, jumping around. “It takes girls to think of the fixin’s.”
“That’s so,” agreed Johnny, getting over his little grouch.
“And let’s have the bake in Griscom’s grove—you know—back of the old schoolhouse; there’s a fine place there. Don’t you remember, Johnny?”
“Of course,” said her brother. “There’s plenty of stones there for an oven. And——”
“Oh, oh, oh!” screamed Tavia, suddenly.
“Whatever became of that torch, Rogue?” demanded Joe.
It was too late, however, to wonder about that. One side of the stack of fodder was all ablaze.