ble off together,
leaving her time to stitch happily at certain dainty bits of sewing,
write voluminous letters, or dream over others quite as long, swinging
in her hammock under the lilacs.

CHAPTER XIII.

SOMEBODY RUNS AWAY.

"School is done,
Now we'll have fun,"

sung Bab and Betty, slamming down their books as if they never meant to
take them up again, when they came home on the last day of June.

Tired teacher had dismissed them for eight whole weeks and gone away to
rest; the little school-house was shut up, lessons were over, spirits
rising fast, and vacation had begun. The quiet town seemed suddenly
inundated with children all in such a rampant state that busy mothers
wondered how they ever should be able to keep their frisky darlings out
of mischief; thrifty fathers planned how they could bribe the idle
hands to pick berries or rake hay; and the old folks, while wishing the
young folks well, secretly blessed the man who invented schools.

The girls immediately began to talk about picnics, and have them, too;
for little hats sprung up in the fields like a new sort of
mushroom,--every hill-side bloomed with gay gowns, looking as if the
flowers had gone out for a walk, and the woods were full of featherless
birds chirping away as blithely as the thrushes, robins, and wrens.

The boys took to base-ball like ducks to water, and the common was the
scene of tremendous battles waged with much tumult but little
bloodshed. To the uninitiated it appeared as if these young men had
lost their wits; for no matter how warm it was, there they were,
tearing about in the maddest manner, jackets off, sleeves rolled up,
queer caps flung on anyway, all batting shabby leather balls and
catching the same as if their lives depended on it. Every one talking
in his gruffest tone, bawling at the top of his voice, squabbling over
every point of the game, and seeming to enjoy himself immensely in
spite of the heat, dust, uproar, and imminent danger of getting eyes or
teeth knocked out.

Thorny was an excellent player, but not being strong enough to show his
prowess, he made Ben his proxy, and, sitting on the fence, acted as
umpire to his heart's content. Ben was a promising pupil and made rapid
progress, for eye, foot, and hand had been so well trained that they
did him good service now, and Brown was considered a first-rate
"catcher."

Sancho distinguished himself by his skill in hunting up stray balls,
and g