iss
Kitty, I'm sure you know whether you like summer or winter best."

Kitty considered.

"I like winter best for Christmas, and summer for Fourth of July," she
said at last, with the air of one settling a weighty matter.

But Miss Larkin really cared nothing to know about these things; it was
only her idea of making herself entertaining to her young audience.

"And you, Baby Rosamond," she went on, "what do you like best in all the
world?"

"Boffin," was the ready reply, "an' Buffaro Bill, 'cause I'm it."

They all laughed at this, for in the Maynard family Rosy Posy's high
estimation of herself was well known.

Although it seemed as if it never would, the luncheon at last came to an
end.

Mrs. Maynard told the children they might be excused, and she and Miss
Larkin would chat by themselves.

Decorously enough, the four left the room, but once outside the house,
King gave a wild whoop of joy and turned a double somersault.

Midget threw herself down on a veranda-seat, but with a beaming face,
she said:

"Well, we behaved all right, anyway; but I was 'most afraid I'd be saucy
to her one time. It's _such_ a temptation, when people talk like that."

"She talked all the time," said Kitty. "I don't see when she ate
anything."

"She didn't," said King. "I suppose she'd rather talk than eat. She's
not a bit like us."

"No," said Marjorie, emphatically, "she's not a bit like us!"

CHAPTER III

PICNIC PLANS

One entire day out of each month Mr. Maynard devoted to the
entertainment of his children.

This was a long-established custom, and the children looked forward
eagerly to what they called an Ourday.

The day chosen was always a Saturday, and usually the first Saturday of
the month, though this was subject to the convenience of the elders.

The children were allowed to choose in turn what the entertainment
should be, and if possible their wishes were complied with.

As there had been so much bustle and confusion consequent upon their
return from the summer vacation, the September "Ourday" did not occur
until the second Saturday.

It was Marjorie's turn to choose the sport, for, as she had been away at
Grandma Sherwood's all summer, she had missed three Ourdays.

So one morning, early in the week, the matter was discussed at the
breakfast table.

"What shall it be, Midget?" asked her father. "A balloon trip, or an
Arctic expedition?"

Marjorie considered.

"I want something outdoors