“Besides,” continued Priscilla, “the experience of shooting a gopher, while doubtless thrilling in the extreme, doesn’t compare for one moment with homesteading. Do you know, girls, I believe I’ll take along my Thought Book. Something might come to me!”
“I would, if I were you,” acquiesced Virginia. “No, Hannah, dear,” she added, turning to the faithful retainer in the doorway, “we don’t want a thing 92 to eat. Thank you just as much. It wouldn’t be homesteading at all if we carried food. Jean says there are plenty of supplies out there. We’re just going to take our night-dresses and combs and tooth-brushes and Priscilla’s Thought Book.”
Hannah smiled dubiously.
“Supplies is all right, deary,” said she, “but who’s going to cook them?”
“I can make biscuits, I think,” offered Mary. “At least, I did once.”
Virginia thought for a moment, uncertain of her contribution.
“I’m sure I can fry fish,” she said. “I’ve seen you do it a hundred times, Hannah.”
Priscilla and Vivian, not being culinary experts, made no promises; but Virginia, even in the face of discouragement, still insisted that they take nothing.
“Then don’t go till after dinner,” called Aunt Nan from her room. “It will be ready in an hour.”
“Better wait,” reiterated Mr. Hunter. “William’s had to go on the range a piece for the horses, anyway.” 93