ah Emily, made a great feast. They grew very merry over
it, and when it was finished, up from the bottom of John's pail came a
book--the real reason for the berry-picking expedition. Just whether
it would be forbidden by their aunt or not, John and Elizabeth had not
run the risk of inquiring. It was a tremendously funny book, so funny
that the last time they had read a chapter--it was up in the hay-mow on
a rainy Saturday--Elizabeth had laughed so loud that they had almost
been discovered. John could go off into one of his silent fits of
laughter in the same room as Aunt Margaret and never be discovered, but
Elizabeth was prone to scream and dance, and when anything funny seized
her Sandy McLachlan's slash was only at a safe distance from home.

So, as the book was so very enjoyable, they had decided that it had
better be read in private. Elizabeth had some conscientious scruples,
which she had been bold enough to utter, but they were silenced by
John's quoting no less an authority than Mr. Coulson. The schoolmaster
had been overheard saying to Tom Teeter that he had spent all one
Saturday forenoon reading "Innocents Abroad." And he had told Annie
some of the funny stories in it, hence John had begged it from Malcolm,
who had borrowed it from a High School boy in Cheemaun.

So the three sat them down in a shady nook, against a mossy log, and
listened with delight while John read. They took turns at reading
aloud; Charles Stuart was the best reader, and Elizabeth the worst.
She either read very slowly and stumbled over all the long words, or
else so fast one could not follow her. But Charles Stuart was a
wonderful reader, one of the best in school. Indeed, Mr. Coulson
declared that Charles Stuart would make a greater public speaker than
Tom Teeter some day, if he set his mind to oratory.

But to-day it was John's turn to read, and when the extracts were not
too funny he progressed fairly well, toiling along in a quiet monotone.
When the story became very laughable, however, he proved a great trial
to his listeners. Before he could utter the joke, his voice would fail
and he would collapse into helpless laughter. When importuned by his
audience to speak out and let them know what the fun was, he would make
agonized attempts to utter the words, failing again and again, until
Charles Stuart would snatch the book from him. Sometimes the sight of
John struggling to utter in anguishing whispers the thing that was