"Oh, that old-fashioned thing! Well, I suppose boys won't know—I'll take it, Wythie. Ready, Rob?" cried Prue.
"Would be if my shoe-lacing hadn't come untied, and I stepped on it and broke it. I wouldn't dare tell anyone what I thought of shoe-lacings!" cried Rob, trying to tie the broken string with fingers that quivered with impatience.
"Let me, Rob; you're too crazy," said Frances, kneeling before her friend.
Rob resigned herself with a sigh. "Blessings on thee, little Fan," she said. "Please go down, Wythie and Prue. Tell the boys we'll be there just as soon as we finish singing 'Blest be the tie that binds.'"
Wythie and Prue departed laughing, and Rob and Frances followed very soon.
"Where shall we begin?" asked Bruce, after greetings were over.
"At the beginning," said Rob, but Wythie, with a glance at her irrepressible sister, said:
"Wherever you like; it really doesn't matter. And we girls are going to rake after you."
"You are little Boazes,
Following your noazes;
We are gleaners, like to Ruth,
Raking hay while in our youth,
Which we think a better line
Than making hay in the sunshine,"
sang Rob, with one of her sudden inspirations.