I'm not fat. I've got just as much waist as you have."
"You've got more," shrieked delighted Laura.
Faithless Marjory, struck by this indubitable truth, laughed outright.
"You—you can't make Indian-bead chains," sputtered Mabel, trying hard to find something crushing to say. "You can't make pan-cakes. You can't drive nails."
"Yah," retorted Laura, who was right in her element, "you can't throw straight."
"Neither can you."
"I can—if I could find anything to throw I'd prove it."
Just at this unfortunate moment, a groceryman arrived at the Milligan house with a basketful of beautiful scarlet tomatoes. In another second, Laura, anxious to prove her ability, had jumped from the fence, seized the basket and, with unerring aim, was delightedly pelting her astonished enemy with the gorgeous fruit Mabel caught
