“Here it is spring and he has found the first hepatica. See, he sends me a pressed one! And this is my love letter. What do you make of it?”
It was six little stamped envelopes, all with wings, and in the corner was a jew’s-harp unmistakably dancing a jig.
“I know! I know!” cried Lucy.
“So do I!” from Lil.
“I can’t see any kind of sense in it!” pondered Frank.
“Nor I,” grumbled Skeeter. “You girls just make up answers.”
“I’m going to whisper my answer to Mr. Spring-keeper,” suggested Lil.
The old man smiled as Lil whispered her answer.
“Good! Splendid! And now what do you think?” turning to Lucy.