"

"You're not obliged to take it."

"I don't this year. I've got Harmony down on my time-table instead."

"You'll miss the rambles with Teddie."

"I don't care. I'll play basket-ball instead."

"How about the blackberry foray?"

"Oh, I'm not going to be left out of that! It's not specially Nature
study. I've put my name down with Miss Moseley's party."

The inmates of The Woodlands were fond of jam. It was supplied to them
liberally, and they consumed large quantities of it at tea-time. To help
to meet this demand, blackberrying expeditions were organized during the
last weeks of September, and the whole school turned out in relays to
pick fruit. A dozen girls and a mistress generally composed a party,
which was not confined to any particular form, but might include any
whose arrangements for practising or special lessons allowed them to go.
Dates and particulars of the various rambles planned, with the names of
the mistresses who were to be leaders, were pinned up on the
notice-board, and the girls might put their names to them as they liked,
so long as each list did not exceed twelve.

On Saturday afternoon Miss Moseley headed a foray in the direction of
Porth Powys Falls, and Merle, Ulyth, Rona, Addie, and Stephanie were
members of her flock.

"I'm glad I managed to get into this party," announced Merle, "because I
always like Porth Powys better than Pontvoelas or Aberceiriog. It's a
jollier walk, and the blackberries are bigger and better. I was the very
last on the list, so I'd luck. Alice had to go under Teddie's wing. I'd
rather have Mosie than Teddie!"

"So would I," agreed Ulyth. "I scribbled my name the very first of all.
Just got a chance to do it as I was going to my music-lesson, before
everyone else made a rush for the board. Porth Powys will be looking no
end to-day."

Swinging their baskets, the girls began to climb a narrow path which ran
alongside the stream up the glen. Some of them were tempted to linger,
and began to gather what blackberries could be found; but Miss Moseley
had different plans.

"Come along! It's ridiculous to waste our labour here," she exclaimed.
"All these bushes have been well picked over already. We'll walk
straight on till we come to the lane near the ruined cottage, then we
shall get a harvest and fill our baskets in a third of the time. Quick
march!"

There was sense in her remarks, so Merle abandoned several half-ripe
specimens for which she had been reach