"Not only would I catch them," he told her, "but I'd eat them; if we are to have fish to eat, Sarah, someone must catch them for us. The same way with roast chicken for Sunday dinner and roast pork, you know; they don't grow on bushes." Sarah's eyes turned to Bony, now lying comfortably sprawled across her lap. She was sitting on the ground and Rosemary beside her. "I never would eat Bony!" she said in horror-stricken tone. "No, of course not," Richard put in quickly, "but you'd eat a pig you were not acquainted with, wouldn't you?" Sarah was most uncomfortable. She liked roast pork and in winter was fond of little sausages. And now here was Richard telling her that pigs--like Bony--had to be killed before one could have roast pork to eat. "Never mind, Sarah," said Rosemary, taking pity on her sister. "You don't have to think about what you eat--just don't try to make everyone see your way and don't argue so much and eat what Winnie gives you and you'll have nothing to worry about." Warren laughed and held out his cup as Rosemary lifted the dipper invitingly. "In other words, Sarah," he counseled, "don't be so valiant a reformer." "What's a reformer?" demanded Sarah, eyeing the pail anxiously. "You're one when you try to stop your friends from going fishing," Warren informed her. "That's the whole trouble with reform--no one is willing to improve himself and let his neighbor alone; for all you know, Sarah, you drive Jack Welles fishing in self-defense. Perhaps, if you let him alone, he wouldn't go at all." Sarah stared, but Rosemary nodded. "I don't know about Jack," said Rosemary, "but I do know that as soon as someone says it isn't right to do such and such a thing, I always want to do it. And it may be something I never thought of before." "Like coasting down hill backward," contributed Sarah. Rosemary dimpled and Warren, who had been uneasily thinking they ought to go back to the vines, resolved to wait a few minutes longer. "Did you coast backward?" asked Richard with interest. "What happened?" "Oh, I ran into another sled and cut my wrists and nearly broke the legs of the two boys on the other sled," Rosemary recited. "The trouble was I never would have thought of it, if it hadn't been for Miss Johnson. She's a woman who lives in Eastshore and she's forever scolding about girls--the way they 'carry on,' she calls it. I happened to hear her say that no nice, well-brought up girl would make herself conspicuous on a coasting hill." "So you thought up the most conspicuous way of getting down the hill and did it?" suggested Richard. "Well, it turned out more conspicuous than I intended," Rosemary acknowledged. "I never intended to tangle up three or four sleds and have the news get around that there had been an accident on the hill. Mother was so frightened when she heard of it--remember, Sarah?" Sarah remembered. But she was more interested in the lemonade.