"Why not give up the post-office?" he asked. "We'd be the H. T. C. just the same, and you're all sick of it anyway."
"You are too," said Trix, indirectly admitting that she was.
"Well, even if I weren't, I couldn't play post-office this winter," Jack replied. "I say, let's get the post-office in here, and burn it for a farewell ceremony, and then if we want to have another I'll make one next summer. Anyhow, this one's warped."
Trix cheered up.
"Let's," she said briefly.
"Burn our post-office!" Amy gasped.
Margery looked happier.
"And I could write an ode, and we'd read it while it burned. But you'd have to ask Alma Cara and Mr. Oliver Twist first, Jack, because they're members. You go there, and while you're gone I'll write the ode."
"First let's vote on whether we burn it or not," said Jack. "All in favor of burning the post-office please signify it by saying aye."
"Aye," said Trix and Margery unanimously.