g beginning, it had been a very satisfactory
Fourth. Up-stairs, as the girls made ready for bed, Ruth voiced the
general opinion. "For a safe and sane Fourth, it hasn't been half bad."

Peggy who had crossed the hall, to combine sociability with the ceremony
of taking down her hair, brushed her refractory locks with energy.

"I wish they'd never tacked that on to the Fourth of July," she said.
"So many things are safe and sane, darning stockings, for instance. The
Fourth of July ought to be a lot more. It ought to be jolly, and to
teach you something, and make you think. And this Fourth has come pretty
near all three."

CHAPTER VI

THE PICNIC

Though the Fourth of July picnic had failed to materialize, it was
responsible for turning the thoughts of the girls in a new direction. In
the beginning of their stay the cottage porch with its shading vines and
inspiring view, had satisfied them completely, but the magic of the word
"picnic" had awakened a longing to come a little closer to the heart of
things.

"I'm tired of eating off a table," Amy declared. "I want to sit on the
grass, and pick ants out of my sandwiches, and feel as if I was really
in the country. What's the matter with a picnic?"

As far as could be gathered, nothing was the matter with this
time-honored festivity, and plans and preparations began. The latter
were on a somewhat less elaborate scale than those undertaken in honor
of the Fourth, partly because Peggy, who easily ranked as chief cook,
had undertaken to find a desirable picnic-ground and secure a suitable
vehicle for transporting the party. The double responsibility proved
engrossing, and the cooking which went on in her absence was less
inspirational in its character, and certainly less successful, than when
Peggy was at the helm.

As Farmer Cole's carry-all could not accommodate the party, a farm wagon
with three seats, and abundant space for baskets, was put at their
disposal, along with two horses of sedate and chastened mien. But Peggy
looked at them askance. Peggy laid no claim to skill in horsemanship,
and though lack of confidence was not one of her failings, she would
almost as readily have undertaken to manage a team of giraffes, as this
stolid pair, with their ruminative eyes, and drooping heads.

"I--I don't suppose they're likely to run away, are they?" questioned
Peggy, making a brave effort to speak with nonchalance.

Joe, to whom the question was addressed, gri