hing is as much fun as an Ourday."

"Let's take the camera," said Kingdon, "and get some snapshots."

"Yes, and let's take fishlines, and fish in the brook," said Kitty.

"All right, chickabiddies; we'll have a roomy wagon to travel in, so
take whatever you like. And now I must be off. Little Mother, you'll
make a list to-day, won't you, of such things as I am to get for this
frolic?"

"Candy," repeated Rosy Posy; "don't fordet that."

As the baby was not allowed much candy, she always chose it for her
Ourday treat.

Mr. Maynard went away to his business, and the others remained at the
breakfast table, talking over the coming pleasure.

"We'll have a great time!" said Kingdon. "We'll make father play Indians
and shipwreck and everything."

"Don't make me play Indians!" exclaimed his mother, in mock dismay.

"No, indeedy! You couldn't be an Indian. You're too white-folksy. But
you can be a Captive Princess."

"Yes!" cried Marjorie; "in chains and shut up in a dungeon."

"No, no," screamed Rosy Posy; "my muvver not be shutted up in dunjin!"

"No, she shan't, Baby," said her brother, comfortingly; "and, anyway,
Mops, Indians don't put people in dungeons, you're thinking of
Mediaevals."

"Well, I don't care," said Midget, happily; "we'll have a lovely time,
whatever we play. I'm going over to ask Gladys now. May I, Mother?"

"Yes, Midget, run along. Tell Mrs. Fulton that Father and I are going,
and that we'd be glad to take Gladys and Dick."

Away skipped Marjorie, hatless and coatless, for it was a warm day, and
Gladys lived only across the street.

"It's so nice to have you back again, Mopsy," said Gladys, after the
invitation had been given and accepted. "I was awful lonesome for you
all summer."

"I missed you, too; but I did have a lovely time. Oh, Gladys, I wish you
could see my tree-house at Grandma's! Breezy Inn, its name is, and we
had _such_ fun in it."

"Why don't you have one here? Won't your father make one for you?"

"I don't know. Yes, I suppose he would. But it wouldn't seem the same.
It just _belongs_ at Grandma's. And, anyway, I'm busy all the time here.
There's so much to do. We play a lot, you know. And then I have my
practising every day, and, oh dear, week after next school will begin. I
just hate school, don't you, Gladys?"

"No, I love it; you know I do."

"Well, I don't. I don't mind the lessons, but I hate to sit cooped up at
a desk all day. I wish they'd have schools out