"That'll do!" she decreed. "I'm going to sort you out and give you each
to your fairy godmother, and you may pour your woes into her ears, and
she'll try her level best to right your wrongs. No, you _mayn't_ say
whom you'd like to have. It's _we_ who'll do the choosing, thanks!
Anybody who's not satisfied can walk off and she won't get a champion at
all or any more candy either. I mean what I say."
Such an awful threat reduced the juniors to order, and they submitted
quite peaceably to be apportioned among their various benefactresses.
Irene secured Little Flaxen, Lorna had a pair of solemn-eyed sisters,
Peachy pounced upon the liveliest trio and proclaimed them as her
triplets, and Delia adopted the two youngest as twins.
"You can come to us at a pinch," explained Agnes, "but please remember
we're Fairy Godmothers, _Limited_. We'll fight any just crusade, but
we're not going to write your exercises for you, or pull you out of
scrapes when you don't deserve it. That's not our function. There, you
understand? Hand the candy again, somebody. There's another piece each
all round at least, and if there are any over I'll throw them up and you
shall scramble for them."
The immediate effect of this mission of the Camellia Buds was a decided
improvement in the conditions of the juniors. Next morning, at
lunch-time, a stern-faced contingent mounted guard over the biscuits,
and when Bertha and Mabel, plainly bent on piracy, sauntered down the
room, they were told certain unpalatable home truths, and ignominiously
put to rout.
"Stop that instanter!" commanded Peachy.
"We're here to see fair play!" snarled Jess.
"Be content with your own portions!" flared Delia.
"Well, really! Who asked you to boss _us_?" retorted Bertha angrily.
"Nobody; but we're going to stop your mean tricks, so we give you
warning. You two are a disgrace to the Transition. I don't know what
flags you class yourselves under, but I'm sure neither America nor
Britain would be proud to own you--you biscuit-snatchers!"
Peachy's eyes were snapping sparks, and the matter might have waxed even
warmer had not Rachel reentered the room for a pencil she had dropped.
The head prefect pricked up her ears at the sound of the disturbance,
whereupon Mabel and Bertha, who knew they would receive short shrift if
she demanded an explanation, made a hasty exit, merely murmuring to Jess
and Peachy as they pushed past them:
"We'll pay you out for this!"
"Just you wait!"
CHAPTER VI
Among the Olive Groves
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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