But in spite of this the “Likes” were invited. Possibly they smelled the eatables, for they came up to the side of the Chelton as nicely as if they had set out from shore with that intention.
“Thanks,” called Dainty, the fat one, “we would be pleased to,” although no one had asked him to do anything.
“Delighted,” affirmed Kent, the other of the party. “We sent our cards by messenger.”
The canoe bobbed up and down, until Cora took an extra rope from the Chelton and threw it to Dainty, who in turn tied it to a small hook in the green Snake. This served to keep the canoe from capsizing as Dainty and Kent crept into the Chelton.
Just what saved all three boats from being turned upside down in the racket that followed only Neptune knows, for in their delight at seeing real food the boys from the “Likes” grew so impetuous that the “Couldn’ts” felt called upon to interfere.
Crabs, sandwiches, potatoes—each in turn were hailed with gales of glee, until the girls fell back exhausted with the strain of providing and cooking.
“Let me, let me,” begged Dray, “I know exactly how to handle electric appliances. I press my neckties—with an electric iron.”
He was over into the Chelton, and piling more potatoes under the little tin cover on the toaster, before anyone had time to answer.
“Turned or unturned?” he asked, surveying a smoking potato critically.
“Both or neither,” answered the famished Dainty between gasps.