“He’ll be crazy about you,” I said; “he’s so fond of eatin’.”
“And my name’s Stella Wingate,” the other girl said.
So then Brent introduced all of us to the girls in that funny, sober way he has and told them about our patented left-handed hike. Those girls said they belonged down at Brookside and were just camping for the day. If you want to go to Brookside you just row down the outlet and pretty soon you come to it.
I said, “How far is your camp from here. And can we get to it without turning to the right?”
Marjorie Eaton said, “I don’t see how you ever expect to get away from the lake if you keep turning to the left; you’ll just go around and around and around. I think you’re all too silly. You’ll just go hiking around forever.”
Brent said, “You never can tell, they may cut a road to the left some day while we’re going around.”
“Didn’t I tell you they’re all crazy?” Pee-wee shouted.
The other girl said, “If you must go on with such a perfectly ridiculous thing, why don’t you give a broad interpretation to your rule?”
“I’d like to give something worse than that to it,” the kid shouted.
“A broad interpretation is bad enough,” I said. “About how broad should it be?” I asked her.