will teach you and you may play there all you wish."

Sister looked longingly at the rings when Brother suggested them.

"Where's Jimmie?" she asked cautiously.

"Up in his room studying," answered Brother confidently.

Jimmie had been "conditioned" in the June examinations, and now spent
part of every vacation day studying so that he might take another test
before school opened in the fall.

"All right," agreed Sister, assured that Jimmie was not likely to walk
in upon them. "How'll we get the rings untied?"

The rings were fastened up out of the way, tied to a nail on the side
wall, so that when not in use they did not take up any room. Jimmie
could reach this nail easily, but, of course, it was far above
Brother's head.

"I'll get the step-ladder," announced Brother confidently. "You hold it
for me."

The step-ladder was an old one and inclined to wobble. Brother mounted
it slowly, and Sister sat down on the lowest step to hold it steady.
Her weight was not enough to anchor the ladder, and it still shook
crazily when Brother reached the highest step and stood on his tiptoes
to reach the string that held the swings on the nail.

"What are you kids up to now?" a voice asked suddenly.

It was Jimmie! He had come out to the barn to get a book he had left in
the corner cupboard.

Sister jumped to her feet, startled. Her elbow brushed the wobbily
ladder and over it went, carrying Brother with it. He was too surprised
to cry out.

"Are you hurt? Of all the crazy actions?" Jimmie scolded vigorously as
he rushed to his small brother's rescue.

Fortunately for him, Brother had landed on one of the heavy, thick,
quilted pads that were on the floor. The boys used them when on the
apparatus in case they fell. Brother was not hurt at all, but he was
frightened, and when Jimmie picked him up he was crying bitterly.

"I've a good mind to tell Father," continued Jimmie, who, of the three
older boys, was less inclined to leniency with the performances of
Brother and Sister. "Next time you might be badly hurt, and then it
would be too late to punish you. Come here, Sister."

Sister came reluctantly.

"What were you trying to do?" said Jimmie grimly.

"Trying to use the swinging rings," answered Sister meekly.

"There's nothing to do," wailed Brother forlornly. "Everybody's busy
and no one wants to play. And you don't own this barn, Jimmie
Morrison--so there!"

"Perhaps I don't," retorted Jimmie. "But Dad happens