at the edge of a piece of wood when a big, black wood-ant
dropped down Jennie Stone's back.

At first they did not know what the matter was with her. Her mouth was
full, the food in that state of mastication that she could not immediately
swallow it.

"Ow! Ow! Ow!" choked the plump girl, trying to get both hands at once down
the neck of her shirt-waist.

"What _is_ the matter, Heavy?" gasped Helen.

"Jennie, dear!" murmured Ruth. "Don't!"

"_Ma chere!_" gasped Henri Marchand. "Is she ill?"

"Jennie, behave yourself!" cried her aunt.

"I saw a toad swallow a hornet once," Tom declared. "She acts just the
same way."

"As the hornet?" demanded his sister, beginning to giggle.

"As the toad," answered Tom, gravely.

But Henri had got to his feet and now reached the wriggling girl. "Let me
try to help!" he cried.

"If you even begin wiggling that way, Colonel Marchand," declared Helen,
"you will be in danger of arrest. There is a law against _that_ dance."

"Ow! Ow! Ow!" burst out Jennie once more, actually in danger of choking.

"What _is_ it?" Ruth demanded, likewise reaching the writhing girl.

"Oh, he bit me!" finally exploded Jennie.

Ruth guessed what must be the trouble then, and she forced Jennie's hands
out of the neck of her waist and ran her hand down the plump girl's back.
Between them they killed the ant, for Ruth finally recovered a part of the
unfortunate creature.

"But just think," consoled Helen, "how much more awful it would have been
if you had swallowed him, Heavy, instead of his wriggling down your spinal
column."

"Oh, don't! I can feel him wriggling now," sighed Jennie.

"That can be nothing more than his ghost," said Tom soberly, "for Ruth
retrieved at least half of the ant's bodily presence."

"You'll give us all the fidgets if you keep on wriggling, Jennie,"
declared Aunt Kate.

"Well, I don't want to sit on the grass in a woodsy place again while we
are on this journey," sighed Jennie. "Ugh! I always did hate creepy
things."

"Including spiders, snakes, beetles and babies, I suppose?" laughed Helen.
"Come on now. Let us clear up the wreck. Where do we camp to-night,
Tommy?"

"No more camping, I pray!" squealed Jennie. "I am no Gypsy."

"The hotel at Hampton is recommended as the real thing. They have a horse
show every year at Hampton, you know. It is in the midst of a summer
colony of wealthy people. It is the real thing," Tom repeated.

They made a pleasant and lo