“Anyway,” said Violet Elizabeth. “It ith divorth an’ I don’ care if it ithn’t. ’F you don’ play houth with me, I’ll thcream n’ thcream till I’m thick. I can,” she added with pride.
William looked at her helplessly.
“Will you play house with me, Joan?” said Hubert, who had been fixing admiring eyes upon Joan.
“All right,” said Joan pacifically, “and we’ll live next door to you, William.”
Violet Elizabeth had gone to prepare the barn and Joan and Hubert now followed her. William glared after them fiercely.
“That ole Hubert,” he said indignantly, “comin’ messin’ about in our field! I votes we chuck him out ... jus’ sim’ly chuck him out.”
“Yes,” objected Ginger, “an’ he’ll tell his mother an’ she’ll come fussin’ like what she did last time an’ tellin’ our fathers an’ ’zaggeratin’ all over the place.”
“Well, let’s think of a plan, then,” said William.
Five minutes later William approached Hubert with an unnatural expression of friendliness on his face. Hubert was politely asking Violet Elizabeth to “have a Bulls’ Eye” and Violet Elizabeth was obligingly taking three.
“I say, Hubert,” whispered William to Hubert, “We’ve gotter a secret. You come over here ’n we’ll tell you.”