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“Billy, ask Mr. Patton to let her come to your house! There aren’t any boys.” Jean’s voice trembled with eagerness. “Yet let him sleep downstairs,” Edith persisted. Her absorption hypnotized the others to wondering stillness. In a moment her attitude and intensity had transported them to the mysterious East, and put upon them the spell of ancient superstitions..
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One tall, ambitious girl contributed a unique float called, “Lot’s Wife Looking Backward.” She had not been certain of the color for the desert, consequently had made the whole thing, including the wagon, the boys, and herself snowy white. She had copied an old Bible picture, carrying out the idea with sheets, and such liberal doses of flour, that only a heavy dew was needed to turn the float to dough instead of salt. However, the sun shone, and the addition of diamond dust over all made a very realistic picture that Billy praised heartily. “It’s plain lazy. He won’t even wash himself.” “I wouldn’t jist say he cant git up, Mrs. Wopp, fer Mrs. Bower sewed the tear up fer him; but the pants bein’ still on him and Joe bein’ shy-like she felt too narvous to make a good job of it an’ I reckon Joe is afeard those few stitches Mrs. Bower put in may not be very secoor.” “All but Sour; an’ sister’s fixed him. He’s crazy over music, and she got his father to let him take lessons, and that kid’s her slave ever since. But it isn’t minding, Ladybird; the guys take my cue, and we tell things we’ve hunted up in the week about the lesson; and sister tells things, and we’re so busy we forget to be silly.”.
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