The Outdoor Girls at Rainbow Lake | Page 2

or less "gracelessly,"
to get out.
"There's the empty box," she remarked, as it was disclosed where it had
lain hidden between herself and Betty. "Not a crumb left, Amy, my
dear. But I fancy I have a fresh box in the house, if Will hasn't found
them. He's always-- snooping, if you'll pardon my slang."
"I wasn't looking for candy," replied Amy. "It's my handkerchief-- that
new lace one; I fancied I left it in the hammock."
"Wait, I'll get up," said Betty. "Don't you dare let go, Amy. I don't see
why I'm so foolish as to wear this tight skirt. We didn't bother with

such style when we were off on our walking tour."
"Oh, blessed tour!" sighed Mollie. "I wish we could go on another
one-- to the North Pole," and she vigorously fanned herself with a
magazine cover.
Betty rose, and Amy found what she was looking for. Grace walked
slowly over the shaded lawn toward her house, at which the three
chums had gathered this beautiful-- if too warm-- July day. Betty, Amy,
and Mollie made a simultaneous dive for the hammock, and managed,
all three, to squeeze into it, with Betty in the middle.
"Oh, dear!" she cried. "This is too much! Let me out, and you girls can
have it to yourselves. Besides, I want to talk, and I can't do it sitting
down very well."
"You used to," observed Amy, smoothing out her rather crumpled dress,
and making dabs at her warm face with the newly discovered
handkerchief.
"The kind of talking I'm going to do now calls for action-- 'business,' as
the stage people call it," explained Betty. "I want to walk around and
swing my arms. Besides, I can't properly do justice to the subject sitting
down. Oh, girls, I've got the grandest surprise for you!" Her eyes
sparkled and her cheeks glowed; she seemed electrified with some
piece of news.
"That's what you said when you first came," spoke Mollie, "but we
seemed to get off the track. Start over, Betty, that's a dear, and tell us
all about it. Take that willow chair," and Billy pointed to an artistic
green one that harmonized delightfully with the grass, and the gray
bark of an apple tree against which it was drawn.
"No, I'm going to stand up," went on Betty. "Anyhow, I don't want to
start until Grace comes back. I detest telling a thing over twice."
"If Grace can't find that box of chocolates she'll most likely run down
to the store for another," said Amy.

"And that means we won't hear the surprise for ever so long," said
Mollie. "Go on, Bet, tell us, and we'll retell it to Grace when she comes.
That will get rid of your objection," and Mollie tucked back several
locks of her pretty hair that had strayed loose when the vigorous
hammock-action took place.
"No, I'd rather tell it to you all together," insisted Betty, with a shake of
her head. "It wouldn't be fair to Grace to tell it to you two first. We'll
wait."
"I'll go in and ask her to hurry," ventured Amy. She was always willing
to do what she could to promote peace, harmony, and general good
feeling. If ever anyone wanted anything done, Amy was generally the
first to volunteer.
"There's no great hurry," said Betty, "though from the way I rushed
over here you might think so. But really, it is the grandest thing! Oh,
girls, such a time as may be ahead of us this summer!" and she
pretended to hug herself in delight.
"Betty Nelson, you've just got to tell us!" insisted Mollie. "Look out,
Amy, I'm going to get up."
Getting up from a hammock-- or doing anything vigorous, for that
matter-- was always a serious business with quick Mollie. She
generally warned her friends not to "stand too close."
"Never mind, here comes Grace," interrupted Amy. "Do sit still, Mollie;
it's too warm to juggle-- or is it jiggle?-- around so."
"Make it wiggle," suggested Betty.
"Do hurry, Grace," called Mollie "We can't hear about the grand
surprise until you get here, and we're both just dying to know what it
is."
"I couldn't find my chocolates," said Grace, as she strolled gracefully
up, making the most of her slender figure. "I just know Will took them.

Isn't he horrid!"
"Never mind, did you bring the talcum?" asked Amy. "We can sprinkle
it on green apples and pretend it's fruit juice."
"Don't you dare suggest such a thing when my little twins come along,
as they're sure to do, sooner or later," spoke Mollie, referring to her
brother and sister-- Paul and Dora-- or more often "Dodo," aged four.
They were "regular tykes," whatever that is. Mollie said so, and she
ought