through them, making large green-roofed caves here and there. One of the boys let her share his cave with him and some afternoons when the others weren’t around, he took her in his arms and kissed her, pressing himself up against her. He was one of the big boys, fourteen, and when June was allowed to play with a boy of his age who was captain of the “run, sheepy, run” team which always won, she felt that she should be glad that he wanted to hug her. But there was wickedness in it. It was exciting.
June was eight then, and at school, during recess, the girls joined hands and formed a circle and sang:
“Water, water wine-flower,
Growing up so high.
We are all young ladies
And we are sure to die.
All excepting Ju-une,
She is the fairest flower.
Fie for shame, fie for shame,
Turn around and tell your beau’s name.”
It wasn’t always June of course who was the “fairest flower.” Sometimes whole days passed before she was called upon to be one. It gave her a secret thrill to name the captain of the “run, sheepy, run” team. His name was Harvey. Then the girls joined hands again and sang:
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