"
"O, dear," laughed Mary, "I think you'd better stop and take a good long
breath, and get the we's and you's straightened."
"I don't care," Helen went chattering on. "You know what I mean, just what
we've done. We, you and I,--is that right?--were to come to her house and
choose what kind of entertainment we wanted her to give, so you might meet
my friends."
"Who thought of the garden picnic?" inquired Mary, her face all animation.
Then, not waiting for Helen's answer, she said, enthusiastically, "Isn't
this a beautiful spot in which to have a picnic?"
The girls stopped talking long enough to look about at the pride of Mrs.
Armour's heart, the lovely grounds round her home. They surrounded a fine
old house of colonial type, for which they made a pretty setting. A double
row of dignified and ancient elms flanked a pathway leading from the gate.
The lawn on each side of the walk made one think of the answer the English
gardener gave to the inquiry as to the cause of the velvety beauty of
England's lawns. "Why, sir," said he, "we sows 'em, and we mows 'em, and we
mows 'em, and we sows 'em.
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