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Page 4
"All right for you!" declared Jack. "Go on, and joy go with you!
But don't you send me any picture postcards of yourself lost in a
perilous mountain fastness,--'cause I won't come and rescue you.
So there!"
"What is a mountain fastness?" demanded Patty. "It sounds frisky."
"It isn't," replied Jack; "it's a deep gorge, with ice-covered
walls and no way out; and as the darkness falls, dreadful growls
are heard on all sides, and wild animals prowl--and prowl--and
prow-ow-owl!"
Jack's voice grew deep and terrible, as he suggested the awful
situation, but Patty laughed gaily as she said:
"Well, as long as they keep on prowling, they certainly can't harm
me. It all sounds rather interesting. At any rate, the ice-covered
walls sound cool. You must admit Spring Beach is a hot place."
"All places are hot in hot weather," observed Beatrice, sapiently;
"when there's an ocean breeze, it's lovely and cool here."
"Yes," agreed Lora, "when there IS. But there 'most generally
ISN'T. To-day, I'm sure the thermometer must be about two
hundred."
"That's your heated imagination," said Jack. "It's really about
eighty-four in the shade."
"Let's move around into the shade, then," said Patty. "This side
of the veranda is getting sunny."
So the young people went round the corner of the house to a cooler
spot, and Nan expressed her intention of going down to the train
to meet Mr. Fairfield.
"You people," began Patty, after Nan had left them, "mustn't talk
as you do about my going away, before my stepmother. You see,
we're going because she wants to go, but it isn't polite to rub it
in!"
"I know it," said Beatrice, "but I forgot it. But, I say, Patty, I
think it's too bad for you to be trailed off there just to please
her."
"Not at all, Bee. She has stayed here three months to please me,
and turn about is fair play."
"It's Fairfield play, at any rate," put in Jack. "You're a trump,
Patty, to take it so sweetly. I wish you didn't have to go,
though."
"So say we all of us," declared Lora, but Patty ordered them,
rather earnestly, to drop the subject and not refer to it again.
"You must write me all about the Pageant, girls," she went on.
"Can't I write too, though I'm not a girl?" asked Jack.
"No!" cried Patty, holding up her hands in pretended horror. "I
couldn't receive a letter from a young man!"
"Oh, try it," said Jack, laughing. "I'll help you. You've no idea
how easy it is! Have you never had a letter from a man?"
"From papa," said Patty, putting the tip of her finger in her
mouth, and speaking babyishly.
"Papa, nothing! You get letters from those New York chaps, don't
you, now?"
"Who New York chaps?" asked Patty, opening her eyes wide, with an
over-innocent stare.
"Oh, that Harper kid and that Farrington cub and that Hepworth old
gentleman!"
"What pretty pet names you call them! Yes, I get letters from
them, but they're my lifelong friends."
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