g as if she was your teacher, Margery?" Dolly called
down laughingly to Margery Burton, who, because she was always
laughing, was called Minnehaha by the Camp Fire Girls. "Zara acts just
as if we were in school, and she's as superior and tiresome as she can
be."

"She's a regular farm girl, that Zara," said Walt, with a grin. "Knows
as much about packin' hay as I do--'most. Bessie, thought you'd lived on
a farm all yer life. Zara there can beat yer all hollow at this. You're
only gettin' half a pickful every time you toss the hay up. Here--let me
show you!"

"I'd be a pretty good teacher if I tried to show Margery, Dolly,"
laughed Bessie King. "You hear how Walter is scolding me!"

"He's quite right, too," said Dolly, with a little pout. "You know too
much, Bessie--I'm glad to find there's something you don't do right. You
must she stupid about some things, just like the rest of us, if you
lived on a farm and don't know how to pitch hay properly after all these
years!"

Bessie laughed. Dolly's smile was ample proof that there was nothing
ill-natured about her little gibe.

"Girls on farms in this country don't work in the fields--the men
wouldn't let them," said Bessie. "They'd rather have them stay in a hot
kitchen all day, cooking and washing dishes. And when they want a
change, the men let them chop wood, and fetch water, and run around to
collect the eggs, and milk the cows, and churn butter and fix the garden
truck! Oh, it's easy for girls and women on a farm--all they have to do
is a few little things like that. The men do all the hard work. You
wouldn't let your wife do more than that, would you, Walter?"

The boy flushed.

"When I get married, I'm aimin' to have a hired gal to do all them
chores," he said. "They's some farmers seem to think when they marry
they're just gettin' an extra lot of hired help they don't have to pay
fer, but we don't figger that way in these parts. No, ma'am."

He looked shyly at Dolly as he spoke, and Dolly, who was an
accomplished little flirt, saw the look and understood it very well. She
tossed her pretty head.

"You needn't look at me that way, Walt Stubbs," she said. "I'm never
going to marry any farmer--so there! I'm going to marry a rich man, and
live in the city, and have my own automobile and all the servants I
want, and never do anything at all unless I like. So you needn't waste
your breath telling me what a good time your wife is going to have."

Walter, alrea