e to us all."

"And, of course, we have to stand Lil in the school and gymnasium. She
won't kill us; she's only silly," went on Nell.

"I believe you're all more or less willing to have Lil go," declared
Laura, in wonder.

"We-ell," drawled Bobby. "There's the chance of having somebody to do
the camp work for us----"

"Not Lil!" shrieked Jess. "She never lifts her hand at home."

"No," said Nell. "But Mrs. Pendleton will pay a maid's wages."

"Ah--ha!" ejaculated Jess Morse. "I smell a mice, as the Dutchman
says. We are to be bribed."

And bribed they were. At least, none of them wished to put Laura's
mother to any trouble. So they agreed to let Lily Pendleton go camping
with them. Mrs. Pendleton left it to the girls to find anyone they
wanted to help about the camp, and promised to pay good wages.

"I know just whom we can get," Bobby said, eagerly, that evening when
the girls--and some of the boys--were assembled as usual on the
Belding front porch.

"Who's that?"

"That Bean girl," said the groceryman's daughter.

"Who's she? Miss Boston Bean?" chuckled Chet.

"Lizzie Bean! I know who she is," exclaimed Laura.

"She's the girl who's been helping the Longs since Alice came back to
school. Now Alice will keep house for her father and the other
children again, and Lizzie will be out of a job," explained Bobby.

"Whew! 'Lonesome Liz?'" ejaculated Lance Darby. "Short and Long calls
her that. Says she's about half cracked----"

"I guess she isn't cracked enough to hurt," said Dora Lockwood,
quickly. "Is she, Dorothy?"

"Of course not," agreed her twin. "And she keeps the house beautifully
clean, and looks after Tommy fine."

"Let me tell you Master Tommy Long is some kid to look after,"
chuckled Chet.

"And that's no dream," agreed his chum, Lance.

Bobby began to laugh, too. "Did you hear his latest?" she demanded of
the crowd.

"Who's latest," asked Jess.

"Tommy Long--the infant terrible?"

"Let's hear it, Bobs," said Jess. "If he can say anything worse than
_you_ can----"

"But this break on Master Tommy's part was entirely unintentional.
Alice was telling me about it. She sends him to Sunday School and he
has to memorize the Golden Text and repeat it to her when he comes
home.

"The other Sunday he had been skylarking in Sunday School, it was
evident, for when she asked him to tell her the text, he shot this one
at her: 'Don't worry. You'll get the blanket.'"

"_What_?" gasped Laura.