the river."

"It's the gem of the whole collection," Kit announced proudly. "Do you
remember, Piney, the place where Billie and I had our birch tepee long
ago? He used to call it Turtle Cove. There's a dandy shore there, and
canoeing on the lake above the Falls. I'd much rather have Honey and Ralph
there than strangers."

"Well, you'll probably have me, too," Piney announced, "because I'm just
dying to go camping. It seems so queer, Kit, that none of us ever thought
of it before. Here are these glorious woods and hills around us, with
miles and miles of land as wild as you'd find anywhere, yet we all cling
to the little farm spots. I hope somebody else will go ahead and put up
tents the way you folks have done. I was telling a lot of the girls at
high school about it, and they may take a tent for a couple of weeks."

"And Cousin Roxy told me yesterday that she was positive Billie and Mr.
Howard would come down for a while in July or August." Kit heaved a sigh
of contentment, as she rose from the ground. "I see that my wilderness is
going to blossom like the rose, Proserpine Hancock. Now, if you'll kindly
tell me where all these tent dwellers of mine are going to get fresh water
from when the brooks dry up, I'll be glad. They can't all trot way up to
the house to our well."

"Trot it to them," Piney suggested instantly. "Charge them five cents a
pail for it, and let one of the little Peckham boys handle that. I'll tell
you one thing I bet you girls don't know. There's a never-failing spring
about a mile up the road, and a lot of them could get water there. It's
right near Cynthy Allen's old place."

Kit regarded her admiringly, as they all started back down the woodroad
towards home, Molly trailing along behind leisurely.

"I believe Cousin Roxy was perfectly right. She told me long ago, Piney,
before I ever knew you, that you knew where every single wild flower
bloomed in all Gilead Township, and every cow path and brook."

Piney's eyes held a little wistful gleam, but she smiled with the old
dauntless tilt to her head.

"I guess I do around Greenacres," she said. "You see, Honey and I always
thought it would be our home some day, and about the first thing that I
can remember is mother telling us all the places around here that she
loved best when she was a girl. I suppose that's why I remember them all."

Doris and Helen were far ahead, trying to get down some branches of
dogwood that hung invitingly over the