"She's the kind of girl!" commented Joe, who had been busy making a bow
and arrow for Roger. "If her brother Jack had a little of her spunk he
would not be where he is."
"Why?" asked Dorothy, "doesn't Johnnie get along well at school?"
"At school?" echoed Joe, "he is never there to get along at all. I think
it is clothes that keeps him home. I was going to ask Aunt Libby if any
of mine might be spared--"
"Why, of course, you have some that are too small. I will see about them
myself. It is too bad those children have no one to manage for them."
"What's the matter with their mother?"
"I don't know--that is--of course they have their mother, but she does
not seem to know how to manage."
"And we have you and you do seem to know," responded the boy, trying the
bow to make sure it would not shoot backwards. "Well, sis, you're a
brick and Tavia, well, she is brick-dust, at any rate, but Jack--well he
is Jack, and that is all there is to it. I'm going to ask father to let
him carry Bugles next week. What little he could earn would do something
for him."
"Mr. Travers is such a nice man," went on Dorothy, "I think Tavia is
exactly like him."
"And Jack is like his mother. But we musn't back-bite," seeing the look
of reproach on Dorothy's face. "I hope you have a jolly good time at the
picnic.
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