Chapter Twenty Seven.
A Picnic and a Surprise.
But the cyclone, terrible though it was, did not altogether put an end to the Dumplin’ picnic, if we may be allowed the phrase. It only delayed it. As soon as the weather cleared up, that interesting event came off.
“Who’ll go by land and who’ll go by water?” asked Thursday, when the heads of houses were assembled in consultation on the morning of the great day, for great it was in more ways than one in the annals of Pitcairn.
“I’ll go by water,” said Charlie Christian, who was one of the “heads,” inasmuch as he had been appointed to take charge of the hut which had been nearly carried away.
“Does any one know how the girls are going?” asked Matt Quintal.
“I’m not sure,” said John Adams, with one of those significant glances for which he was noted. “I did hear say that Sally meant to go by land, but, of course, I can’t tell. Girls will be girls, you know, an’ there’s no knowing when you have them.”
“Well, perhaps the land road will be pleasanter,” said Charlie. “Yes, now I think of it, I’ll go by land.”
“I think, also,” continued Adams, without noticing Charlie’s remark, “that some one said Bessy Mills was going by water.”
“You’re all wrong, Charlie, about the land road,” said Matt Quintal; “the water is far better. I shall go by water.”