“Atlantic or Pacific oceans?” Pee-wee piped up. She said, “After lunch we always make a big boxful of them, just heaping over, and then we just lie back and rest and read aloud and _gorge_ ourselves. We do that every Saturday. We come out in the woods and have a perfectly _scrumptious_ time. And we don’t go home till the jelly cones are all gone.” Brent said, “We’d even be willing to listen to you read if you’ll let us in on that.” Stella Wingate said, “You’re perfectly horrid.” Brent asked them, “Are you reading the Dolly Dimple Series?” Marjorie said, “No, we’re not reading the Dolly Dimple Series, Mr. Freshy. We’re reading _Treasure Island_, _so there_.” “Jelly cones don’t go with _Treasure Island_,” I said. “Oh, yes, they do, you’ll see them go,” Stella said. “She’s right,” Pee-wee shouted; “because the more excited you get the faster you eat. _Treasure Island_ is better than Dolly Dimple for eating those things—jelly cones. And anyway scouts have to be loyal and we’ll stick to you till they’re all gone and besides that I’ve read _Treasure Island_ so I don’t have to listen if I don’t want to, I can just eat. Gee, I want to see you start making them because if they’re kind of disguised as ice cream cones I bet they’re good.” “Listen to starving Russia,” I said. “He’s so dumb he thinks Cook’s Tours are named after a chef.” CHAPTER XII GIRLS AND WASPS All the while Hervey Willetts was lying on his back looking up in the air and not saying anything. When he can’t be moving he’s as still as a ghost. He was kind of kicking his hat from one foot to the other. All of a sudden he started something—that was just like him. That fellow can start something lying on his back. He said, “Oh, look at the wasps’ nest up there in the tree.” Gee whiz, you should have seen those girls jump. Right then we all noticed that there were wasps flying around above us and in and out of the big nest. It was a great big nest, as big as a watermelon and the entrance to it was underneath; it was a hole about as big round as a quarter. Hervey said, “Give me a stick and I’ll knock it down and we’ll have a game of football with it while we’re waiting for the jelly cones, or whatever you call them.” “In quest of adventure,” Brent said, “we’ve all been stung once to-day following you and that’s enough. If you want to take it down lift it down carefully and pour the wasps out first. Then we can take a few kicks at it.” Warde said, “It has kick enough in it, let it alone. It has too much of a kick in it for me.” Then up jumped our young hero. “You don’t catch me doing any kicking,” he shouted. “I’m glad to hear that; you’ve been kicking ever since we started,” I told him.