It's to be a sort of royal picnic, but in the evening, mind,--wasn't that a brilliant idea for the old gentleman?
We are all to go up in boats, and there are to be great rafts with blazing torches, and a supper in the woods grander than any of Mrs.Upjohn's, and bonfires, and the band from Galilee, and bouquets for the ladies, and I don't know what not, and best of all, unlimited opportunities for flirting.

It's to be _the_ affair of this and every other season past or future.

It's a crying shame you can't go." "Oh! how I wish I could!" sighed poor Phebe.
"I made pa give me a new dress for it," continued Bell, leaning forward to pick off the biggest grapes from a bunch on the table.

"I mean to look just too-too.

Mr.De Forest is going to row me up.