“But just think of taking a cherry pie to the President of the United States,” Veve sighed enviously.
Even though the hour was early, a few persons began to leave the churchyard. Soon the Brownie festival would be over.
“It’s been a wonderful success,” Rosemary said happily. “And just think! We made twenty-five dollars for our crazy quilt.”
“What’s more, we still have the quilt,” chuckled Jane. “That’s what I call good business.”
Connie had been gazing over the thinning crowd.
“It’s odd Pa Hooper didn’t come,” she remarked. “He said he might bring our check for the cherry picking.”
“Probably he was detained at the orchard,” Miss Gordon replied. “Don’t worry about the check. It may come by mail tomorrow.”
The Brownies began to gather up paper plates and to pick up napkins that had blown from the serving table.
Since the start of the festival, the wind steadily had freshened. Dark clouds scudded across the sky.
“It looks a little like rain,” Miss Gordon observed rather anxiously. “I hope not. A storm tonight might seriously damage Mr. Hooper’s cherry harvest.”