Winona had one of Marie’s books, and she was sitting on the bottom reading it, forgetful of the world.
“What does this mean, Billy?” as she looked up suddenly. “Marie has a note here in pencil ‘But Raleigh was not exclusively Elizabethan!’ and two exclamation points after it.”
“I don’t know,” Billy answered frankly. “I don’t see why Marie wants to worry about it.”
“Raleigh was Gothic with Queen Anne chimneys,” interrupted Tom. “If you want information just come to me, little one. Here, Winnie, put down that book. It looks too full of useful information for a nice day like this. Remember, this is a pleasure exertion.”
“All right,” and Winona laid down the book. “Only I do wish I knew as much as Marie does.”
“And yet she never seems to study hard,” remarked Louise, to whom lessons were a painful grind. “I believe she’s like Billy Wiggs of the Cabbage-Patch—she ‘inherited her education from her paw!’”
“She could!” put in Tom mournfully. “Professor Hunter has enough and too much. Just wait till you get under him, Louise!”
“Oh, I can wait. I’m in no hurry at all. He’s awfully nice out of school hours, but——”
“But why talk about school in vacation?” broke in Billy impatiently. “Isn’t it a lovely day?”
The girls were curled on the bottom of the canoe, in the middle, and the boys were paddling at the ends. The morning breeze, cool and fresh, struck their faces, whipping Louise’s red hair about her face in little curls, and blowing Winona’s blue tie straight back over her shoulder in the sunshine.