Part 15 (2/2)

A lantern had been lit in each tent, for the shadows were thickening under the oak trees on the knoll. Lizzie Bean at once began to overhaul the cooking utensils and supplies in the cook-tent.

This tent was divided into two parts. Lizzie's own cot was in the rear apartment. There was a long table, roughly built but serviceable, in the front with the stove and chest of drawers. There were folding campstools in plenty.

In the cabin was a comfortable straw mattress for Mrs. Morse in the wide bunk, a small table on which her typewriter case already stood, a rocker made in rustic fas.h.i.+on, a painted dressing case with mirror of good size, and shelves for books.

A small fire was burning on the hearth, for the cabin was apt to be damp after its many months of abandonment. It had been swept and garnished with boughs of sweet-smelling spruce and pine.

The girls' sleeping tent housed seven cots, all supplied with unbleached cotton sheets and heavy double blankets. Lil Pendleton looked about it when she brought in her bag, and s.h.i.+vered.

”Goodness!” she said. ”I'm glad we're 'way out here in the wilderness if we're going to dress and undress in this thing. Why! I shall feel just as much exposed as though the sides were made of window-gla.s.s.”

”What nonsense!” sniffed Bobby, who had been camping with her father and had spent many a night in a tent. ”You're too particular, Lil.”

”Who asked _you_ to put in your oar?” demanded Miss Pendleton, crossly. ”I have a right to my opinion, I hope.”

”I should hope it was n.o.body else's opinion,” returned Miss Bobby, quick to pick up the gauntlet.

”Hush, girls!” advised Mother Wit. ”Let us not be quarrelsome. We don't want Mrs. Morse to think we are female savages right at the start.”

Lil sniffed; but good-tempered Bobby said, quickly: ”You're right, Laura. I beg the company's pardon--and Lil's particularly. We must be 'little birds who in their nest agree.'”

”You're a fine bird, Bobby,” laughed Dora. ”Come on! I hear the dishes rattling. Let's see what Lizzie has tossed up for supper.”

”I wonder if she managed to boil the water without burning it?”

giggled Jess. ”She's the funniest girl!”

”I should think you and Laura could have found a maid who wasn't quite such a gawk,” muttered Lil, unpleasantly.

”Hus.h.!.+” admonished Mother Wit. ”Don't let her hear you.”

”Why not?” snapped Lil.

”You will hurt her feelings.”

”Pooh! she's paid for it----”

”Not for having her feelings hurt,” declared Laura, sternly. ”And I won't have it. She's odd; but she is quite as quick of hearing as the next person.”

”Aw, you're too particular, Laura,” drawled Lil. But she stood a little in awe of Mother Wit.

They joined Mrs. Morse and filed into the cook-tent. Lizzie's flushed face appeared behind the steaming biscuits and a big platter of ham and eggs. They did not really know how hungry they were until they sat down to these viands.

Lizzie stood with arms akimbo and waited for the verdict upon the cooking.

”Most excellent, Lizzie,” Mrs. Morse said, kindly.

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