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THE PICNIC
ONE day Evelyn proposed that we all have a picnic to Rostrom Rock over there. But she was trembly and excited about it in a way I never saw before.
"It'll take us all day to go and come," says I.
"All the better," says she. "Betsy'll bring all of her best pies—and leave the armies to do without them for one day. Let us hurry to get off early."
"Is Betsy to go, too?" asks I.
"Everybody—even the hireland!" cries Evelyn, dancing—crazy—with unusual excitement.
I wasn't exactly pleased to eat ants with my pie. But Dave and Jon didn't care for a few ants more or less—if Evelyn went with 'em. Betsy was against me, saying that the idea was providential, inasmuch as she had
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