"I am," answered Tommy, speaking for herself.
"Who says you are?"
"Buthter."
"Margery, I am ashamed of you. You have evidently forgotten that Grace
showed how little she was afraid when she was lost at sea the other
night," chided the guardian.
"Yeth, I'm a 'fraid cat. But I'd rather be a 'fraid cat than a fat
cat!" declared the little, lisping girl with an earnestness that made
them all smile. Harriet came swinging in with long, steady strokes,
the last one landing her on the sand with the greater part of her body
out of the shallow water.
"Why wouldn't you let me go across, Miss Elting?" she asked.
"You would be late for breakfast."
"Oh! I thought you feared I might drown," answered Harriet
whimsically.
"Once is enough," answered Jane. "There goes the fish horn. Hurry,
girls! We are going to be late."
"The fithh horn? Are we going to have fithh for breakfatht?"
questioned Tommy.
"Never mind what, girls. Tuck up your blankets and get busy. Remember,
you must braid your hair before going to breakfast. I don't like to
see you at meals with your hair down; you girls are too old for that."
"Yes, Miss Elting," answered Harriet.
"I gueth I'll cut my hair off. It ith too much trouble to fix it every
morning," decided Grace.
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