But as we dropped into our places the Story Girl shot a significant glance at me which intimated that this was the psychological moment for introducing the scheme she and I had been secretly developing for some days. It was really the Story Girl’s idea and none of mine. But she had insisted that I should make the suggestion as coming wholly from myself.
“If you don’t, Felicity won’t agree to it. You know yourself, Bev, how contrary she’s been lately over anything I mention. And if she goes against it Peter will too--the ninny!--and it wouldn’t be any fun if we weren’t all in it.”
“What is it?” asked Felicity, drawing her chair slightly away from Peter’s.
“It is this. Let us get up a newspaper of our own--write it all ourselves, and have all we do in it. Don’t you think we can get a lot of fun out of it?”
Everyone looked rather blank and amazed, except the Story Girl. She knew what she had to do, and she did it.
“What a silly idea!” she exclaimed, with a contemptuous toss of her long brown curls. “Just as if WE could get up a newspaper!”
Felicity fired up, exactly as we had hoped.
“I think it’s a splendid idea,” she said enthusiastically. “I’d like to know why we couldn’t get up as good a newspaper as they have in town! Uncle Roger says the Daily Enterprise has gone to the dogs--all the news it prints is that some old woman has put a shawl on her head and gone across the road to have tea with another old woman. I guess we could do better than that. You needn’t think, Sara Stanley, that nobody but you can do anything.”
“I think it would be great fun,” said Peter decidedly. “My Aunt Jane helped edit a paper when she was at Queen’s Academy, and she said it was very amusing and helped her a great deal.”
The Story Girl could hide her delight only by dropping her eyes and frowning.
“Bev wants to be editor,” she said, “and I don’t see how he can, with no experience. Anyhow, it would be a lot of trouble.”
“Some people are so afraid of a little bother,” retorted Felicity.
“I think it would be nice,” said Cecily timidly, “and none of us have any experience of being editors, any more than Bev, so that wouldn’t matter.”
“Oh, no,” I said. “We can’t have it printed. We’ll just have to write it out--we can buy foolscap from the teacher.”