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"I've found a note from Philip, Viola," Phyllis called as they neared the house. "He's lunching out, it seems." She handed Viola the note. "I hav gon out too Lunchun," it stated briefly. "Yours Sincerely, Philip Harrington." "He'll come back," his mother went on, with a perceptible relief in her voice. "He has a corps of old and middle-aged ladies about the village who adore him.
"A wheelbarrow," assented Miss Addison, a pretty, white-haired spinster. She, too, took a cup. Phyllis cast up her eyes in horror and, incidentally, saw Joy. "Come in," she said resignedly. "I'm just hearing how Philip disported himself at his 'lunchun." "I didn't mean to distress you, but I really thought you should know, Mrs. Harrington," pursued the visitor plaintively.
Aug. 6. brite and fair. today after sunday school Beany he came over and we made up. this was the longest time i ever was mad with Beany. i am glad we aint mad enny more. father let me go to ride with Mister Watson and Beany this afternoon. we went down to the beach and took our lunchun. when we was coming home me and Beany got most asleep and our legs got asleep two, so Mister Watson he told us to get out and walk a little and we wood be all rite and when we got out he whiped up his horse and drove of lively and made me and Beany walk most a mile. we kep awake after that you bet. i had a good time.
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