“What are they doing?” fretted Clementina. “Don’t you s’pose she’s going to have us tooken?”
“Oh, yes!” answered Dolly Merrifield, as the question was addressed to no one in particular. “I think they are finding the right place to take it in.”
“Oh!” cried Clementina rapturously, “I bet that’s it.”
And all the little faces on the veranda reflected Clementina’s.
“We’re going to be took playin’ marbles!” announced Timmy Dennis.
“I’m going to get my doll, so ’s she can be tooken too!” exclaimed Chessera.
“Maybe she won’t let you,” suggested Clementina.
“Maybe she will!” retorted Chessera, who never held any doubts concerning Polly.
Meantime, several matters having been satisfactorily settled, the two that had been considering them came up on the veranda. Then Polly went into the house, and returned with Lilith and the White Nurse. Shortly afterwards Benedicta appeared and ran across the lawn to the Study, coming back with a boy in her arms and Dr. Abbe just behind with another.
It was an excited little company that was grouped on the grass against a background of shrubbery. Wheel-chairs and small chairs were carried out and moved from place to place, in order to obtain the best effect. At last everybody was ready, with his very best smile or his most happy expression, according to whether he was grown up or only five or ten or anywhere between. The little folks were told to keep perfectly still, the photographer waited the fraction of a minute for the sun to hide his face under the edge of a white cloud, and then--click!--the picture was taken.
What a Babel of tongues was set loose as soon as the word of release was given! The children all talked at once, and the grown-ups smiled to one another and hoped that “it” was good.
After a long week the finished photographs came, and the children promptly went into a flutter of ecstasy and did not come out until the next morning. Then before they were dressed they had to take two rapt glances at “the picture,” the first to make sure that it had not grown wings overnight, and then to see if it were really as beautiful as it had been when they went to bed.
It was a fine photograph; even the grown-ups admitted that. Everybody was in it, from Benedicta Clapperton down to Baby Zulette. The little folks had obeyed to the letter all the warnings to be motionless, and the result was a perfect likeness of every small face. As for the others, they agreed that all excepting his own were as good as such pictures could well be; so everybody was satisfied--including the photographer himself.