“You wait till you see how we’ll do it,” answered Aunt Bessie gaily. “We’ll find a way. Harriet is going to the movies in town to-night, and we’ll toast our own marshmallows over our own fire. My goodness, Olive, I never thought of the fire! Can we find enough dry wood?”
Mrs. Horton was sure there would be enough wood on the beach.
“Maybe Queen will come,” suggested Sunny Boy, who had grown very fond of the wise, friendly dog. “I should think she’d be lonesome at night.”
“We’ll ask her to the marshmallow roast,” said Aunt Bessie kindly.
Soon after supper they all went down to the beach, Aunt Bessie carrying a box of marshmallows, and Sunny the safety matches. Mrs. Horton and Miss Martinson brought a rug to spread on the sand.
“Let’s go up a way,” suggested Aunt Bessie, as they reached the sand. “There’s a fine smooth stretch around that bend, and we can sit and watch the water till it is darker.”
They found a place where the sand was dry but not too powdery, and Mrs. Horton spread out the rug. For a little while no one spoke, and Sunny Boy, his elbow in Mother’s lap, was content to count the waves coming in and running back again as they did forever and forever.
“Now look,” whispered Mother presently.
Away out to sea, apparently, a silver disc was rising. They could see it grow larger and larger.
“It’s the moon,” said Sunny Boy.