"Over there," cried Luella, sniffling and pointing.

Both girls began to laugh, then stopped as they noticed the unhappy look on the large girl's face.

"I don't wonder she thinks those are plums," said Helen. "I thought they were plums when I was little and always called them plums long after I knew they were olives. Here, Luella, you can eat one now if you wish, but I don't believe you will like them at all. I didn't when I was little."

Luella took the offered dainty and popped it into her mouth. She managed to eat it, although she made awful faces. Tommy, watching her, did not ask for a serving.

"Can I help?" said the strange girl politely. "I wish you would let me.

I would feel better to do something when you are going to give us such a perfectly lovely supper."

"Please sit still and rest," said Rosanna, smiling. "You want to feel real good and hungry when supper is ready, and I am sure you must be tired nearly to death. And if you would tell us your name.... We know which is Tommy, and Myron, and Luella, but we don't know the baby's name, nor yours."

"The baby is little Christopher," said the guest, reaching over to pat the little hand, "and my name is Mary. You are Rosanna and you are Helen, and I heard them call you Minnie."

"Perfectly right," said Minnie. "Will it hurt the baby to crawl around on the gra.s.s?"

"Oh, no, indeed," said Mary. "He crawls all over. He gets some dreadful tumbles but he never cries. He has fallen out of bed so many times that we keep the floor all covered with pillows in front of the bed, and last week he fell down the cellar stairs. Tommy forgot and left the door open."

"My good land, didn't it kill the poor child?" asked Minnie.

"No, there was a bushel basket partly full of potatoes on the landing, and he fell into those and never hurt himself at all. He didn't even cry but a minute. He is the best baby we have ever had."

"My land, you poor chicken, you!" said Minnie. "You talk like you was the mother of the whole bunch!"

"I help a lot with them," said Mary simply, "and I guess they are 'most as much mine as mother's. You see she works and somebody has to take care of them. And it isn't such very hard work, especially since I joined the Girl Scouts. All the girls are so good, and have such a lot of good times, and oh, it makes everything different!"

"What are Girl Scouts?" said Rosanna. Both girls looked at her in amazement. "I know what Boy Scouts are," she said hastily, "but I never heard of Girl Scouts."

Helen patted her on the arm. "Well, Rosanna, some day I will tell you all about them, but now we must hurry and get the rest of the things on the table because I don't think Tommy will ever live if he has to wait much longer."

"I know Myron is awfully hungry too," said Mary, smiling at her little brother. "He never says a word, but I can tell what he thinks. Myron is such a help to me. He is just as good at remembering things as Tommy is at forgetting them."

"He helped to forget the lunch," said Tommy.

Myron spoke up in self-defence. "No, I didn't! I was helping Mary pick up Luella and I thought you had it. You had it the last I saw."

"I put it down after that," said Tommy as though that explained everything.

"I think I will lay the baby down beside this tree and let him have his bottle," said Mary. "That will keep him quiet all the time we eat."

"Wait a minute until we fix a nice place," said Minnie. She brought a couple of auto robes and made a smooth, soft bed under the tree.

"There he is!" she said. Mary, who had been unwrapping wads of newspapers, produced a bottle of milk which she gave the baby. He settled down to a quiet enjoyment of his meal, and Mary sighed as she sat down at the edge of the tablecloth.

"I _do_ hope you won't mind if I look at everything," she said. "I never _saw_ so many _lovely_ things in my life even in a delicatessen window."

CHAPTER VII

The children, very, very solemn but oh so thrilled, seated themselves on the gra.s.s and silently accepted the plates of good things that Helen and Rosanna dished out for them. It is to be said for the everlasting credit of the jello that it did _not_ melt, and the salad _did_ ride well, although Minnie had gloomily expected it to be "all over the place" as she expressed it.

How those children did eat! Commencing with the ham sandwiches and the lettuce and egg sandwiches, and the cold hard-boiled eggs, and crackers and olives, and fruit salad, and very, _very_ thin iced tea with lemon in it, and jello for dessert!

About half way through the smaller children commenced to thaw out and lose their shyness, and talk. _How_ they did talk! Myron said nothing (but that was expected of Myron). When at last Rosanna was tipping up the second thermos bottle to see if there was a drop of tea left, and they were all eating the last cookies very, very slowly, partly to make them last and partly because they were so full and comfortable, Rosanna happened to notice Myron. She motioned to Helen to look. Myron had not eaten everything. He had slyly lifted the tablecloth and had hidden under it a ham sandwich rather nibbled as to edge, a small pile of cookies (his share) and his plate of jello, which he had slipped off on a paper napkin.

"He couldn't eat all his supper, and he is afraid we won't like it,"

whispered Rosanna.

"I am going to ask him," said Helen. She stepped over to the boy, who was sitting close to his little pile of goodies as though trying to hide it. "Couldn't you eat all your supper?"

Myron nodded.

Mary glanced quickly at her brother, and said, "Why, Myron, _whatever_ are you trying to do?"

Tommy piped up. "I guess he's going to take 'em home to eat on the way."

"I am _not_!" said Myron hotly, stung into self-defence as usual by his brother. "I am _not_! Going to take it home to mamma and Gwenny. I haven't had a speck more'n my share. I counted every time, and everybody had four cookies 'cept Tommy. He had six. And I saved my sandwich out, and the jell!"

Tears stood in Mary's eyes. "But it isn't polite, Myron, to take anything away without asking and, anyway, I know mamma and Gwenny will be satisfied to just hear about our good time, and they wouldn't want you to do such a thing." She tried to put the cookies back on the table but Myron clung to them stubbornly.

"No, no!" he said. "They are _my_ things! I went without 'em, and I want to take them home to mamma and Gwenny. Gwenny never had any cookies like those. And the jell is so pretty. I put a egg in my pocket too."

Myron's lip trembled, but he did not cry although Tommy giggled openly.

"Of course you shall take them home to your mother! Who is Gwenny--your dog?" asked Rosanna.

"Gwenny is my _sister_!" said Myron furiously.

Rosanna felt that she always said the wrong thing.

"Oh, excuse me, Myron," she said meekly.

A shade of sorrow pa.s.sed over Mary's bright little face as she said, "Gwenny can never go anywhere with us. She is sick, and never goes anywhere."

"Sick in bed?" questioned Rosanna.

"No, she has a wheel chair, and when her back doesn't hurt too much, she can be wheeled around the house and sometimes out in the yard. But she wouldn't want Myron to do anything like this, so rude."

"But Gwenny never _had_ any cookies as good as those, and the jell is so pretty!" repeated Myron stubbornly.

"I think it is so nice of you, Myron," said Rosanna. "I wish I had known about Gwenny too so I could have saved her some of my cookies. Let me help you do them up. You can take them to her just as you meant to, and I know she will like them because her little brother went without to save some for her. And some day soon, Myron, we will bring her a whole picnic for herself, and perhaps she will ask you to help her eat it."

"I'll help her too," said Tommy, puffing up his chest. "I'd just as soon!"

Minnie, bending over the hamper, whispered to Rosanna, "I'll bet he'll help her! My, my, how I do want to fix that boy! I wish my third sister from the oldest, Louisa Cordelia, had him for a while. I reckon one day with her would make him feel different on a good many subjects. Little pig!" Minnie's eyes snapped.