“Perhaps it will clear,” Jessie, the optimist, said.
“I am still believing in the witch’s curse,” chuckled Amy. “I am going to give her one of the best dolls out of my collection if the picnic is spoiled. Henrietta, I mean.”
“Why!” scoffed her chum. “You half believe that the child really brought about this bad weather.”
“No,” said Amy elfishly. “But I do think little Hen should have a job in the Weather Bureau when she grows up.”
The two young fellows were quite as curious as the girls about the outcome of the affair at the Carter place. The entire neighborhood having been well plastered with bills announcing the entertainment, and its being given in the name of the new hospital fund, it was bound to create interest. Busses were advertised to start from the New Melford post-office as early as two o’clock in the afternoon.
The girls and Darry and Burd boarded the launch, however, and started down the lake about three o’clock. A long distance away from Carter’s they could see the strings of flags and other decorations. Mrs. Ringold and her helpers had spared no expense in making the place attractive. There were decorated booths and a host of uniformed servants in view when the Water Thrush came near. But, as far as the quartette could see, there were not a great number of visitors.
“It’s going to be a frost,” Amy said, with confidence. “I tell you, our little Spotted Snake is a wonder.”
“Oh, don’t say anything,” begged Jessie, as they prepared to go ashore. “I hope you’ve brought some money, Amy. We must all spend some.”
“Darry has got some,” returned her chum. “That is one of the uses of a brother. And even Burd may have a little.”
“Oh, I know my duty,” grumbled the stocky youth. “I am prepared to buy George Washington sundaes, or Kewpie dolls, or boudoir caps, or lollipops.”