“Hush,” said Polly.
“Well, I'm not going to hush,” cried Alexia recklessly; “I'm going to have a good time at the picnic to-day, and do just everything I want to, so there, Polly Pepper!”
“Very well,” said Polly, “then when we get to the Glen, I shall go off with the other girls, Alexia,” which had the desired effect. Alexia curled up into her corner, and hanging to Polly Pepper's arm, was just like a mouse for quiet. And off they went; the old man's whip going crack—snap! as he led the way with a grand flourish, as much better than his efforts of former years, as was possible!
The road led through winding, woodsy paths, redolent of sweet fern; the girls never tired of its delights, exclaiming at all the sights and sounds of country life at all such moments as were not filled to the brim with the songs that ran over from their happy hearts. So on and up they went to the Glen, a precipitous ravine some fifteen miles out from the city.
When the barges finally drew up with another grand flourish at the entrance, a smooth grassy plateau shaded by oaks and drooping elms, they simply poured out a stream of girls from each conveyance; the old man and his companion drivers laughing to see them tumble out. “Pretty quick work, eh, Bill?” said old man Kimball, “no screaming for first places now.”
“It's the same beautiful, dear old Glen!” exclaimed Polly, with kindling eyes and dancing feet. “Oh Alexia, come on!” and seizing the well hand, they spun round and round, unable to keep still, having plenty of company, all the other girls following suit.
Polly looked at her little watch. “In five minutes we must stop. It'll be time to get the flowers.”
“Oh, can we?” cried Alexia. “Misery me! I'm so tired cooped up in that barge, I feel stiff as a jointed doll, Polly Pepper.”
“Well, I don't,” said Polly, dancing away for dear life. “Oh Alexia, when Miss Salisbury gives the signal to explore, won't it be just fun!”
“I should say,” cried Alexia, unable to find words that would just express the case.