I don't intend to tell you about all the sayings and all the laughter
of those boys and girls on their way to Crow Roost. They wouldn't like
to have me, and you wouldn't. Bob Trotter ran over a good many grubs
and way-side stumps, and at every jolt Constance screamed, and Dick
scolded and then laughed. Mat Snead spoke three words. She and
Valentine had been sitting as though in profound meditation for some
forty minutes, when he said: "Quite a ride!"

"Very; no, quite," she answered, in confusion.

Sarah Ketchum said everything that Mat didn't say. She was Mat's
counterpart.

All grew enthusiastic as they approached the woods, and when the wagon
stopped they poured over the side in an excited way.

"What shall we do with the lunch-basket?"

"Leave it in the wagon," said Sarah Ketchum, whose counsel, Kit said,
was as free as the waters of the school pump.

Clara objected to leaving it. Bob would eat everything up. "Let's take
it along."

"Why, no," said Julius.

He was the largest of the boys, and, according to the knightly code,
he remembered the carrying of the basket would devolve upon him.

"Yes, we must carry it along," Sarah Ketchum insisted. "Bob sha'n't