"Pardon me for differing, Anne--not the feet of the owners," laughed
Eleanor, sending a teasing look at her sister.
"Mother says this bowl seems to have been a small crater belonging to
the great pit yonder, when the volcano was active in the centuries long
gone by," explained Polly, as the others ignored Eleanor's remark.
"These Imps certainly are strange formations! Some with arms flung high
as if in defense, others crouching low as if to launch an arrow at the
enemy. And see those--erect with proud mien, in defiance of all others.
They must have been unvanquished," said Anne, interesting Barbara in
spite of her assumed indifference.
"I just guess they weren't so cold and rusty-brown when the old demon
spit fire at them from the active volcano," said Eleanor, gazing aloft
at the grotesque heads with facial forms.
"Nolla! I beg of you to use better English! You know how mother
trembles at your picked-up words from brother!" rebuked Barbara,
seemingly shocked at her sister.
"What a tale these Imps could tell us of remote ages when they were
flung aside as useless in the evolution of things!" said Anne,
diverting a possible argument.
"I say, Anne, why wouldn't this place give you 'atmosphere' for that
story you want to write, some day?" exclaimed Eleanor, unexpectedly.
Anne flushed and Polly looked at her in surprise. Barbara seemed
amazed, too.
"Is this something I never heard of?" asked the latter.
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