“Folks is all upset at the Port, too,” said Gran soothingly, getting out of the cart to go to Nancy.
The girls scurried into the mossy-roofed rambling barn, climbed to the loft, and began searching through the hay.
“Which are you the most worried about, Kit,” asked Sally Rose. “Dick, or—?” She sneezed violently and wiped her eyes and nose with a lace handkerchief. “My, this hay dust makes me think of the time when I was little and got to playing with Father’s snuffbox. Which one? Tell me, Kitty.”
“I’m worried about all of them,” said Kitty slowly. “Even your wretched Gerry. I wish men would keep their guns for deer and wild ducks. I don’t see why they have to kill each other.”
Sally Rose shrugged. “I know,” she said. “I don’t understand it either. But you have to realize, Kitty, some things about men we’ll never understand.” She pulled a large brown egg out of the hay and placed it carefully in the basket. “I wonder,” she said thoughtfully, “if the men on both sides were all shut up in gaol, just how the women would go to work to settle the matter.”
“I don’t know,” said Kitty, adding two more eggs to their collection, “but I’m sure there’d be cups of tea for everybody.”
“Tea doesn’t have much to do with this war, Father says,” went on Sally Rose quickly. “And Gerry says the same. They both say it’s to decide who will rule America—King and Parliament, or the men who live in this country.”
“I should think King and Parliament would have enough to do at home,” answered Kitty. “What’s that? I thought I heard someone shouting.”
Both girls sat up in the shadowy mow to listen.
“Turn out! Turn out! For God’s sake!” thundered a hoarse voice from the highway.