better come straight out here without her and she would come later. I hurried over to Mrs. Varden’s house to tell the girls, but when I got nearly there I saw a black car standing out in front and Hinpoha and Nakwisi and Medmangi sitting in it as cool as cucumbers, thinking they were in the Glow-worm. I recognized the car as belonging to that horribly bashful son of Mrs. Varden’s, and I couldn’t resist the temptation to let the girls sit in it until he came out. So I stole back up the street, keeping in the shadow of the trees so the girls wouldn’t see me, and came out here. Oh, won’t there be a situation though, when ‘Dolly’ Varden comes out and finds his nice bachelor car full of bold, bad girls!”

The picture was too much for Sahwah, and she rolled on the bed shrieking with laughter, in which Nyoda joined heartily. “I wonder how long it will be before they come,” said Sahwah, rising from the bed and wiping her eyes. “What shall we do to pass away the time?”

“If I were you,” advised Nyoda, “I would spend it searching a nice safe retreat to which you can fly when they come and find out you didn’t tell them.”

Hardly had she spoken the words when there floated up from below the familiar cry of the whippoorwill, followed successively by the long, eerie laugh of the loon, the blithe whistle of the quail and the song of the robin. “There they are!” exclaimed Sahwah in mock terror. “Where shall I hide? Oh, I have it, I’ll get inside of that pile of bearskins and listen while they tell their tale of woe to you and then I’ll hop out and laugh at them.” Quick as a flash she jumped into the bearskin bed and pulled the skins over her so that she was entirely concealed.

With a great deal of chattering and giggling the three arrivals were mounting the ladder. “Keep on going, Hinpoha!” exclaimed Nakwisi, “you’re stepping on my hand.”

“Keep on going yourself,” retorted Hinpoha, “you haven’t a pie in your hand.” Just at that moment her foot slipped and she clutched wildly at the ladder for support.

“There goes the pie!” shrieked someone, as it described a circle in the air and landed with a thud. Hinpoha wrung her hands in grief, for her mouth was already watering for that crisp pastry.

Medmangi walked over to view the remains. “It isn’t hurt a mite,” she said calmly, picking it up and dusting it off. “Fortunately it landed right side up in the tin.”

“O Nyoda,” cried Hinpoha, beaming once more now that the feast of pie was assured, “we had the most fun getting here! Gladys told us the Glow-worm was standing out in front of the Varden’s house and we should get in and wait for her, and we saw a car and got in. Pretty soon out came young Mr. Varden, got into the front seat without looking to the right or left and drove off. We thought of course he was driving Gladys’ car away and we all three shrieked at him at once. He pretty nearly dropped dead when he heard us, and stopped the car so suddenly we all flew out of the seat. But he was perfectly grand about it when we found out our mistake. He told us Gladys had gone home fifteen minutes before, but he would be perfectly delighted to drive us where we wanted to go. And so he brought us out,” she finished with a dramatic flourish, and sat down heavily on top of the bearskin bed where Sahwah lay hidden. Immediately there was an upheaval and a grotesque animal sprang from the bed, an animal which had the skin of a bear and two red stockinged legs which capered wildly about while their owner shrieked piercingly, “She sat on my breathing apparatus and I won’t be able to talk for a week!”

“You are talking, you goose,” said Hinpoha, calmly seating herself again after poking the bed to see if it were further inhabited.

“You missed it, Sahwah, by going home,” she continued. “Too bad you weren’t along to share the fun.”

Sahwah’s expression was funny to behold when she learned how the joke had turned out, for it was not on the girls after all, but on herself, for she had walked all the way to the lodge by herself. She looked rather silly as she caught Nyoda’s eye, but while Nyoda twinkled mischievously at her Sahwah knew that she would never give her away. But of course when Gladys arrived a few minutes later and heard the story, Sahwah’s part in it came out and she had to stand the gibes of the others because her joke had turned round on herself, until Nyoda called the beginning of the Ceremonial and peace was restored.

One name has been dropped from the Count Book of the Winnebagos since last we heard the roll called, and to another there is no reply, although it is always called. Early in the fall Chapa the Chipmunk moved to a distant city, and so for the first time the close circle of the Winnebagos was broken. Then shortly afterward Migwan went away to college and her departure caused a fresh bereavement. Though Migwan had been of such a very quiet nature, her influence had been widely felt, and the girls missed her more and more as the days went on. Hinpoha, especially, was almost inconsolable, for she and Migwan had always stood a little closer together than the rest of the girls. This was the first Ceremonial Meeting without the two and it seemed very strange indeed to omit Chapa’s name from the roll, and when Migwan’s name was called and was followed by silence, Hinpoha sniffed audibly and wiped her eyes.

“Sister, this is a very solemn occasion,” said Sahwah the irrepressible, in such a forced tone of sorrow that it was impossible not to laugh at her.

“That’s right,” said Nyoda. “It won’t do for us to pull long faces. We have vowed to ‘be happy’ you know. Think how much worse off Chapa is alone in a strange city. Come, be cheerful and tell what kind deeds you have seen done today. You begin, Sahwah.”

Sahwah took hold of her toes with her hands and tilted back and forth on the floor as she spoke. “Sally Jones did me a great service yesterday in composition class. You know Sally Jones—the one they call the Blunderbuss. Well, you know what a pig I am when it comes to writing composition. I never wrote one yet that I didn’t get a blot on. Last week when I handed mine in Miss Snively said that if there was a blot on my paper this week she would mark me zero for the month. So yesterday when we had to write one in class I took the utmost care and got it all done spotlessly and was just signing my name when Anna Green behind me tried to pick a thread off my collar and laid her fishy cold hand against my neck. I jumped and wriggled and the result was a beautiful blot on my composition. There wasn’t time to copy it over because it was almost the end of the hour, so I resigned myself to a nice fat cipher on my report card this month. Then Miss Snively sent Sally around to collect the papers and when she came to my desk she leaned across it in such an awkward way that she upset my inkwell all over my composition and my one small blot was completely hidden by the deluge. Miss Snively graciously requested me to do it over in rest hour, which I did, and handed it in in perfect shape. Upsetting that inkwell was the kindest thing anybody ever did for me.”

There was a moment of laughter at Sahwah’s tale of kindness and then quiet fell on the group again. “Tell us a story, Nyoda,” begged Hinpoha, breaking the silence, “we’re getting low in our minds again.”

“Yes, do,” begged the others.

Nyoda sat silent a moment staring thoughtfully into the fire. Her hands were clasped around her knees and the light shone on the diamond ring which now encircled the fourth finger of her left hand—the only