t you?"

"No, thank you," he answered. "You are too generous. But I say, Lloyd,
let down a basket or something, won't you? I've got a surprise here for
you all."

"Take the scrap-basket, Betty," said Lloyd, excitedly pointing to a
fancy little basket made of braided sweet grass, and tied with many
bows. "My skipping-rope is in the closet. You can let it down by that if
you tie it to the handles."

A moment later Betty's smiling face appeared at the window, and the
basket was lowered to the boy on the horse below.

"I can't reach it without standing up on the saddle," called Rob. "Whoa,
there, Ben! Easy, old boy!" With feet wide apart to balance himself, Rob
carefully dropped something from the basket he carried on his arm to the
one that Betty dangled on a level with his eyes.

"One for you, too, Betty," the girls heard him say, but he had cantered
off down the avenue before they discovered what it was he had left for
them.

Betty carefully drew the basket in, fearful lest the rope might slip,
for "the surprise" was heavy. As she landed it safely and turned the
basket over on the floor, out rolled four fat little fox-terrier
puppies.

"What darlings!" cried Lloyd, springing off her cot to catch up one of
the plump little things as it sprawled toward her on its awkward paws.
"They are so much alike we'll never be able to tell them apart unless we
tie different coloured ribbons on them. I'm going to name mine Bob after
Robby, 'cause he gave them to us."

"Let's name them all that," said Betty. "We'll be taking them away to
different places soon, so it will not make any difference." The
suggestion was received with applause, and Eugenia sent Eliot to her
trunk for a piece of pale green ribbon. "I'm going to have my Bob's
necktie match my room," she said.

"We'll all do that, too," said Joyce, and in a few minutes the four Bobs
were frisking clumsily over the floor, in their respective bows of pink,
yellow, blue, and green. They afforded the girls entertainment all that
afternoon, and in the evening there was another surprise.

In the starlight, when it was dark enough for the blinds and shutters to
be all thrown open in their rooms, they heard a carriage coming down the
avenue. It, too, stopped under the window, and in a moment they
recognised the twang of Malcolm's banjo and Miss Allison's guitar. "It's
a serenade," called Eugenia. "What a good alto voice Keith has!"

It was an old college tune that rose on