“What’s that?”
“Killing snakes,” said Burd.
“Wrong! Wrong!” cried Jessie, laughing. “You ought to see little Henrietta attack a flock of snakes. She takes the palm.”
“Think of it, a little girl like that going after snakes!” murmured Burd. “She must have nerve!”
“She has,” declared Jessie. “And she is as clever as can be, too, in spite of her odd way of expressing herself.”
“I wonder what they’ll do about Bertha Blair,” came from Darry.
“She certainly had an adventure,” observed Burd. “Maybe the movie people will want her—or the vaudeville managers. They often pick up people like that, who have been in the limelight.”
“I don’t think Momsy will allow anything of that sort,” returned Jessie. “I’m sure she and Daddy will think up something better.”
Suddenly Amy, who was resting comfortably in the porch hammock, leaped to her feet.
“I declare! I forgot!” she cried.