"It's boiling!" finally announced Betty. "Hand me the tea ball,
Amy, my dear."
Pouring the steaming water over the silver tea ball, Betty circulated it
around in the cup, until one fragrant brew was made. She passed this over
to Mollie, and proceeded to make another.
"It's delicious!" cried the French girl, as she tasted it, cream and
sugar having been added. "Oh, isn't this just lovely!"
"Perfect," murmured Grace. "I wouldn't have missed this for anything!"
In pure enjoyment they reclined on the grass after the meal, and then, as
Betty, after a look at her watch, warned them that the better half of
their journey still lay before them, they started off again.
They had proceeded a mile or so, and the way was not so pleasant now, for
the road was sandy, when they came to a fork of the highway. A time-worn
sign-post bore letters that could scarcely be made out, and, though they
had a road map, the girls were not quite sure which way to take to get to
Rockford. They were debating the matter, alternately consulting the map
and the sign-post, when a farmer drove past.
"Which road to Rockford, please?" hailed Betty.
"Th' left!" he exclaimed, sententiously.
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