"I wouldn't trust him to bring up the rear.

Reddy and I want him where we can keep an eye upon him." "Certainly we shall lead the way," flung back Hippy, "but not because you say so.

Our superior rank places us in the front row of the procession.

Come on, Nora.

May I sing and dance?
I haven't sung the chorus yet, you know." Without waiting for permission Hippy pranced ahead of her on his toes, swaying from side to side and scattering the flowers from his bouquet, his voice rising in a falsetto chorus of: "Singing merrily, merrily, merrily, Follow me, full of glee, Singing merrily." "He'll never grow old," said Anne, as she watched Hippy's ridiculous performance.
"Neither will the rest of the Eight Originals," reminded Grace loyally.
"Remember, we have a Fairy Godmother who has taught us the secret of perpetual youth." "What's the secret ?" asked David innocently.