“Anyway, you were a real sport, and you deserved everything that was coming to you,” repeated Billy, in which Tom agreed with him. And when your brother approves of you and says so you can generally be sure that you have done something remarkably right.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Next day was the “cold gray dawn of the morning after.” Not that it was particularly cold or gray, but there was all the unnailing of the float to do, and the dismantling of the two decorated canoes. The girls wound the tinsel off carefully for use on future Christmas trees, and packed away in a box what other decorations were not perishable, for you never know when you’re going to need things. Otherwise they sat around and gloated softly over Camp Karonya’s exceeding brilliancy in carrying off prizes in large quantities.
Mrs. Bryan would not let Winona divide her money with the Camp, because they had enough already to see them through the rest of the time they were to spend there; and then, too, the second prize that the float had won was fifteen dollars.
Nothing else memorable happened that day, except that Nataly Lee left for home. She was thinner and in better condition than she had been when she came, but she frankly didn’t like the life. To her, carrying water, instead of being a lark, was a nuisance. She had no particular pride in working for beads, and it was thought she was hungry for paper novels. It worried her, too, that she was getting burned brown. So she went back to her mother. The girls saw her off, and sang her a cheer, and were as good as they could be. But it is not to be denied that Camp Karonya felt a little relief at her going.
After that nothing happened but regular camp work for three days. And then Louise proceeded to distinguish herself. It was to be expected.
Tom and Billy had taken Winona and Louise off for a day’s fishing in the canoe. As usual, Winona and Louise provided the lunch, the boys the fishing-tackle and the canoe, and the fish were to be divided at the end of the day. They had fished most of the lazy, sunny morning, and it was noon. They climbed out of the canoe by a spring, washed their hands, and set out the lunch; the canoe was too fishy to be used as a dining-hall.
“Do you think that four of us can possibly eat all that?” inquired Billy, eying the piles of sandwiches, the veal loaf, the whole cake and the can of pears which graced the paper napkins on the grass.
“Well,” explained Winona, “the truth is, Louise and I rather doubled up on this lunch. We were both afraid there wouldn’t be enough, and each went separately and brought half a chocolate cake. You see it’s cut down the middle. I merely joined the twin halves for the sake of looks. But do you think that’s too many sandwiches for four people with real appetites?”
“I don’t,” said Tom decidedly. “I’ll attend to anything that’s left over. A very nice amount of lunch—just right. Watch me!”