And he proceeded to make out a receipt on the spot, on the other half of the envelope he had used for the advertisement.
“It certainly pays to advertise!” he remarked, as he turned his attention again to his fishing-line.
Adelaide and Winona jumped into their boat with delight, and rowed downstream for half a mile. There they were stopped by the beautiful sight of a lot of huckleberry bushes, full of fruit, along the edge of the stream. They both filled their hats, and when these would hold no more they pinned up Winona’s skirt in front and filled that—Winona sitting very still thereafter in order not to smash any berries. Then Adelaide rowed back and tied their newly-acquired property to the dock, the use of which was thrown in, and went back to camp with berries enough for dinner. Just before they came within hearing of the others, Adelaide whispered:
“Winona, I’m going to try to—to feel that way about things.”
Winona squeezed her hand, but there was no time to say anything more, for a horde of small pirates descended on them and carried away the berries.
After dinner the girls lay on the grass and made plans, more or less wild, for getting money to prolong their vacation.
“We can’t have a cake-sale,” said Marie practically, “because the farmers’ wives in the village make all their own baked stuff, and the people at the summer-resort are mostly boarders.”
“Oh, please don’t let’s have any more cake-sales, whether they’re profitable or not,” said Louise pathetically. “I sold eats for those sales till I used to go to sleep at night and dream I was a wedding-cake myself.”
“All right, then,” soothed Helen, “you shan’t ever have such dreadful dreams again, you poor little thing!”
“Well, what shall we do, then?” asked Edith Hillis pulling her yellow curls over her shoulder and examining them as if she had never seen them before.