she thought hard. “What about Cribb’s Creek?”

“That’s too near,” Winnie opposed.

“Well, where did the Boy Scouts go last year?”

“Up on Wampoag River, a little way below Wampoag,” said Winona. “They said it was a cinch, because they could sell all the fish they caught to the Wampoag hotel-keepers, and get things they needed, and yet it was just as wild as it could be if you went a little way along the river.”

Wampoag was a summer resort not far from them.

“Well, how far’s that?” asked Louise.

“About ten miles to the boys’ camp,” answered Winona. “But there would be plenty of good camping-ground nearer home, and quite close to that little village—what’s its name?”

“Green’s Corners,” supplied Louise.

“I wonder who Green was, and if he really did have corners,” Winona thoughtfully remarked.

Louise giggled. “He was a square man, I suppose,” she said, and Winnie gave her a shove. “Oh, don’t!” she said. “That’s an awful pun.”

“I thought it was a very good one. Well, to come back to business, the boys didn’t go by train. Indeed, I don’t think you can, unless you go away round. They hiked.”

“Well, why shouldn’t we, too?” asked Louise.

“Or part of the way, anyway!” added Winnie,

“People would take us for a band of ‘I won’t works!’ We’d look it, too, by the time we got to the end of the journey.”

“But we needn’t do it all at once,” said Winnie. “We could break the journey overnight. Don’t you know, people in England have walking-tours that last for days and days? I’ve read about it. They stop in inns overnight and have adventures.”

“Well, I’d like the adventures, if they didn’t mean falling into ponds and getting your clothes wet,” said Louise.

Winnie yawned.

“I suppose they think we’ve tied the cups round our necks and jumped in,” and she lazily started to get up. “Come on, Louise, let’s find Mrs. Bryan and ask her about camping. She’s sure to know about hikes and everything.”

Finding Mrs. Bryan proved to be hard, because she was not in the kind of a place where you would expect to find a grown-up step-mother. They finally discovered her by a flutter of blue skirt that hung down below the branches of an old apple-tree. She was sitting comfortably in one of its crotches, trying to carve herself a willow whistle.

“Come on up, girls!” she hailed them cheerfully. “There’s always room at the top!”

“Where are the rest of them?” asked Winnie, beginning to climb. Louise followed more slowly, for Winnie was more slender and quicker in her movements.

“Scattered all over, I suppose,” said Mrs. Bryan. “Edith went back to old Mary’s to see if her clothes were dry. Did you want them for anything special?”

“No indeed,” Winnie assured her. “It was you we wanted for something special.”

“Well, I’m here,” and Mrs. Bryan dropped an affectionate hand on the pretty brown head beneath her. “What is it, dear?”

“It’s about camping out,” spoke Winnie and Louise in a breath. “Do you think we can do it?”

Mrs. Bryan laughed.

“‘Can we do it?’ Why, my dears, that’s just what we’re for! What would be the fun of belonging to a Camp Fire if we couldn’t go camping outdoors?”

“Oh, lovely!” cried Winnie. “Then you’ll go, too?”

“I certainly will!” said Mrs. Bryan promptly. “It would have to be when Mr. Bryan was having his vacation, though, because it would never do to leave, not only my own hearth-fire, but my own poor helpless husband, untended. And, of course, it will not be till school is through.”

“Oh, oh, it begins to sound almost real!” Winnie cried with a joyous little jounce that shook several pink blossoms from the tree.

“Just wait!” warned Louise from her lower limb. “When we start that twenty-five-mile hike, it will seem quite too real for comfort, take my word for it!”

“Don’t you think we could hike to camp?” appealed Winnie.

“You’ll have to practise shorter hikes first,” was the answer. “If you do that there’s no reason why we couldn’t all walk the distance. I suppose we’ll camp somewhere on the Wampoag River.”

“Yes, that’s what we thought,” said the girls.

“Of course, we’d have to break the journey,” Winnie went on.

“Well, yes, I think so,” Mrs. Bryan answered. “Oh, here are Helen and Marie now. Oh, Helen! We’re up in this tree! No, don’t come up—all the seats are full!”

“Then come down!” called Helen. “We have something to show you.”

The something proved to be a small and very scared garter-snake, that Helen was carrying in a forked stick.

“Poor little snakelet!” said Louise. “Do let him go home, Helen—I’m sure he’s not grown-up yet.”

So Helen put down the snake and off he went.

“Did you find your clothes?” Louise asked Marie rather superfluously, for she had on her sailor-suit, rather fresher-looking than it had been before.

“It was all done when we got there,” said Marie, “but Edith’s dress was harder to do—all those ruffles, you know—so Mary’s still ironing it.”

“Then we’d better sit here and wait for her,” suggested Louise. “And oh, girls, we have a plan.”

“A real plan, all hand-made?” mocked Helen. “Do tell us about it.”

So then the camping-trip was discussed and votes taken about it. Helen, of course, could go. Marie was sure she would be allowed to.

“Mother says I stay in the house and read too much anyway,” she said.

The other girls, drifting up one by one, were all wild over the idea. Edith, in her freshly-laundered frock, was a little doubtful about the hike, but as she said, if she fainted from exhaustion she could take a train or a carriage or something the rest of the way.

They talked camping till it was time to go back and pack up things for the return trip. So the girls rose up from around the apple-tree, and stowed everything away in the baskets and satchels they had brought, and walked back to the trolley. First, though, they gave old Mary all the provisions they had left; cocoa, six rolls, and a generous half of the chocolate cake.

“That certainly was a life-sized cake!” breathed Winnie as she set it on Mary’s kitchen table. “But it won’t be as hard to eat as it was to carry, will it?”

“Sure ye needn’t worry but what it’ll get et,” laughed Mary. “Many thanks, an’ good luck to yez all.”

They piled into the trolley, rather sleepy with the long day in the wind, and, except for Marie and Edith, rather crumpled. Winnie’s blouse had a grass-stain, and Louise’s was marked neatly across the back, like a Japanese stencil, with a wet brown bough-mark. There were also burrs, more or less, on everybody. But what were burrs?

Everybody heaved a sight of contentment as they settled down in their seats.

“It certainly was a lovely picnic!” they said.

“How beautifully fresh and clean Edith Hillis keeps her dresses!” said Mrs. Merriam to Winnie, as Edith turned to wave good-bye at the Merriam gate, and went down the street with Marie and Helen. “You’d think that pink dress had just been washed and ironed, and yet she’s been out in the woods with the rest of you tousled-looking children all day!”

And Winona laughed so that it was at least two minutes before she could explain.