ount of her high heels. But her chums were good enough not to laugh.

They passed farm houses, in the kitchen doors of which appeared the
women and girls of the household, standing with rolled-up sleeves, arms
akimbo, looking with no small wonder at the four travelers.

There were comments, too, not always inaudible.

"I wonder what they're selling?" one woman asked her daughter, as
they paused in their work of washing a seemingly innumerable number
of milk pans.

"They take us for peddlers," said Amy.

A little later a small boy, who had been playing horse in front of his
house, scuttled back toward the kitchen, crying out:

"Ma--ma! Come an' see the suffragists!"

"Oh, mercy!" exclaimed Betty. "What will we be taken for next?"

But it was fun, with all that, and such a novelty to the girls that they
wondered why they had not before thought of this means of spending part
of their vacation.

The sun crept higher in the sky, and the warmth of the golden beams
increased. The girls were thankful, now, for any shade they might
encounter, and they were fortunate in that their way still lay in
pleasant places. They came to a little brook that ran under the road, and
not far from it a roadside spring bubbled up. Their collapsible drinking
cups came in useful, and they remained for a little while in the shade
near the cool spot.

"Where shall we eat our lunch?" asked Grace, as the ever-mounting sun
approached the zenith.

"Are you hungry already?" asked Amy.

"I am beginning to feel the pangs," admitted the tall, graceful girl.

"Then you can't have eaten much candy," commented Mollie.

"Only three pieces."

"Hurrah! Grace is reforming!" cheered Betty. "That's fine!"

"I don't see why you're always making fun of me," Grace said, as she
pouted. "I'm sure you are all just as fond of chocolate as I am."

"Never mind," consoled Mollie. "We will eat soon, for I confess to having
an appetite on my own account."

Deciding to eat, at least on this first day of the tramp, a lunch of
their own providing, rather than go to some restaurant, country hotel, or
stop at a chance farm house, the girls had brought with them packages of
food, and the alcohol stove for a cup of tea, or some chocolate.

"This looks to be a perfect place for our picnic," said Betty, as, on
passing a farm, they saw the plow-horses unhitched and led under a tree
to partake of their hay and oats. "It must be noon by that sign," went
on the Little