d on his broad-brimmed straw hat,
took "Robinson Crusoe" and the spade, dropped the red apples and the
gingerbread into his pocket, and stole softly downstairs. The little
feet made no noise as they passed over the thick carpets. Marianne, who
was lighting the kitchen fire and clattering the tongs, heard nothing.
He reached the front door, and, stretching up, pulled hard at the bolt.
It was stiff, and would not move.

"Oh, dear!" sighed Archie, "I wish somebody _would_ come and open this
door for me."

He looked at the bolt a minute. Then an idea struck him, and, laying
"Robinson Crusoe" and the little spade down on the floor, he went into
the dining-room pantry, where was a drawer with tools in it.

"I'll get Papa's hammer," he thought to himself, "and I'll pound that
old bolt to pieces."

While he was gone, Marianne, who had lighted her fire, came from the
kitchen with a broom in her hand. She opened the door, shook the mat,
and began to sweep the steps. A sharp tinkle, tinkle met her ear from
the back gate. It was the milkman ringing for some one to come and take
in the milk. Marianne set her broom against the side of the door, and
hurried back to the kitchen. Her foot struck against "Robinson Crusoe"
as she went. She picked it up and laid it on the table.

"Why, the door's open!" exclaimed Archie, who at that moment came from
the dining-room, hammer in hand.

He did not trouble himself to speculate as to how the door happened to
be open, but, picking up the spade, wandered forth into the garden. The
gate gave no trouble. He walked fast, and long before Marianne came back
to her sweeping he had gained the woods, which were near, and enclosed
the house on two sides in a shady half-circle. They were pretty woods,
full of flowers and squirrels and winding, puzzling paths. Archie had
never been allowed to go into them alone before.

The morning was delicious, so full of snap and sunshine that it set him
to dancing and skipping as he went along. All the wood-flowers were as
wide awake as he. They nodded at Archie, as if saying "Good-morning,"
and sent out fresh smells into the air. Busy birds flapped and flew,
doing their marketing, and fetching breakfast to hungry nestlings,
chirping and whistling to each other, as they did so, that the sun was
up and it was a fine day. A pair of striped squirrels frisked and
laughed and called out something saucy as Archie trotted by. None of
these wild things feared the child: