"DO LOOK DOWN STREET!"
"Goodness gracious! Why, what under the canopy! Did you ever!" came from her lips in quick succession, for there was Nimpo, the center of a very mob of girls, all in Sunday best, as Mrs. Primkins' experienced eye saw at a glance.
"Ma!" exclaimed Augusta, rushing down, "I do believe that young one has invited the whole school!"
"The trollop!" was all Mrs. Primkins could get out, in her exasperation.
"I'd send 'em right straight home!" said Augusta, indignantly. "It's a burning shame!"
"Mercy on us! This is a pretty kettle of fish!" gasped Mrs. Primkins.
"I wouldn't stand it! So there!" said Augusta, sharply. "I never did see such a young one! I'd just send every chick and child home, and let Miss Nimpo take her supper in her own room—to pay her off! Things have come to a pretty pass, I think!"
"I never did!" ejaculated Mrs. Primkins, not yet recovering her ordinary powers of speech.
"Shall I go out and meet them, and send them packing?" asked Augusta.
"No," said her mother, reluctantly, remembering the unbroken bill in her "upper drawer." "I do' know's I have a right to send them back. I didn't tell her how many, but—mercy on us!—who'd dream of such a raft! If there's one, there's forty, I do declare!"