over night in
different places. Won't it be fun?"

"Jolly!" cried Amy.

"Scrumptious!" was Betty's contribution.

"Mollie, you're a dear!" declared Grace, with a hug. "When can we go?"

"Soon now. I think----" A maid knocked at the door.

"Yes; what is it?" asked Mollie.

"If you please, Miss Billette, there's a gentleman to see you."

"A gentleman?"

"Yes, rather elderly, and he keeps making up verses, Miss. I'm not sure
about him. Will you see him?"

"Verses? Oh, it must be that dear old Mr. Lagg--the storekeeper!"
exclaimed Mollie. "Of course I'll see him. But, girls, what do you
imagine he wants?"

CHAPTER VII

MR. LAGG'S OFFER

With a broad smile on her face, the maid came back, escorting Mr. Lagg,
who, at the sight of the girls, bowed low, and declaimed:

"I'm glad to see you,
I hope we'll agree,
That you are as happy
Now to see me!"

"Good!" cried Betty, clapping her hands until the palms were rosy. "We
are indeed glad to see you."

"Of course," added Mollie. "How could you leave your store long enough
to run down here, Mr. Lagg?"

"Well, it _is_ running a risk," he answered, as he took a chair Amy set
out for him. "But I have important business down here, so I though I'd
call. I worked out that little verse on the way down," he confided to
the girls.

"You are extending your range," remarked Grace, who was languidly eating
chocolates. "That is, your poetry is getting more elaborate."

"It is indeed!" exclaimed Mr. Lagg, brightening up on hearing this
praise. "I am glad you noticed that. Yes, I am gradually getting it
better, and on a higher plane. That is what worried me about leaving my
store alone."

"Did you leave it all alone?" asked Betty, for the girls knew he did
quite a trade with the summer colonists of Rainbow Lake.

"Practically so," was the answer. "I have a boy I hire occasionally, but
he hasn't the least talent in the line of poetry, and I know my
customers will miss that. However, they will have to put up with it for
a few hours. I am going back as soon as I can.

"Perhaps," he added, cautiously, "I should never have worked up my
versifying talent; but, somehow, I just couldn't seem to help it. I
started in a modest way, just as I did in my store, and it seemed to
grow of itself. Now my customers have come to look for it, and I know if
Johnnie--that's the boy I spoke of as being left in charge--I know he'll
rhyme th