"
Indeed, Alf had already given his approval by tearing off toward the
house for the materials of this unprecedented March feast in the woods,
and the old gentleman, as if made buoyant by the good promise of his
little project in the children's behalf, followed with a step wonderfully
elastic for a man of fourscore.
"Well, Heaven grant I may attain an age like that!" said Webb, looking
wistfully after him. "There is more of spring than autumn in father yet,
and I don't believe there will be any winter in his life. Well, Amy, like
the birds and squirrels around us, we shall dine out-of-doors today. You
must be mistress of the banquet; Ned, Johnnie, and I place ourselves
under your orders; don't we, Johnnie?"
"To be sure, uncle Webb; only I'm so crazy over all this fun that I'm
sure I can never do anything straight."
"Well, then, 'bustle! bustle!'" cried Amy. "I believe with Maggie that
housekeeping and dining well are high arts, and not humdrum necessities.
Webb, I need a broad, flat rock. Please provide one at once, while
Johnnie gathers clean dry leaves for plates. You, Ned, can put lots of
dry sticks between the stones there, and uncle Webb will kindle the right
kind of a fire to leave plenty of hot coals and ashes. Now is the time
for him to make his science useful."
Webb was becoming a mystery unto himself. Was it the exquisitely pure air
and the exhilarating spring sunshine that sent the blood tingling through
his veins? Or was it the presence, tones, and gestures of a girl with
brow and neck like the snow that glistened on the mountain slopes above
them, and large true eyes that sometimes seemed gray and again blue?
Amy's developing beauty was far removed from a fixed type of prettiness,
and he felt this in a vague way.
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