re worth the drive, and the horses plodded on, now stimulated to
a trot, by Lucy's exertions, but dropping into a walk again as soon as
she relaxed her efforts.

As the day had all of July's brightness with an exhilarating tang in the
breeze, not always characteristic of this sultry month, nobody was in a
hurry. And, in spite of the deliberate progress of the team, and the
fact that the springs of the wagon left something to be desired, it was
hardly a welcome surprise when Lucy suddenly turned the horses up a
rough bit of road, climbing the hill with such ambitious directness that
several muffled screams sounded from the rear of the wagon, and Dorothy
clutched Peggy's arm, evidently under the impression that she was likely
to go over backward.

"It's all right," Lucy explained hastily, suppressing a smile at
indications of alarm so unaccountable from her standpoint. "It's a
little steep, but we'll be at the top in a minute." Indeed, Bess and
Nat, laying aside the lassitude which throughout the drive had
momentarily suggested the possibility of their deciding to lie down,
struggled bravely up the slope.

"Here we are," announced Lucy, as the wagon jolted over a stump still
standing in the road, and turned to the left under a sentinel oak whose
low-growing branches seemed to be reaching for trophies in the shape of
hats or locks of hair. "This is the place at last." As a matter of fact,
Day's Woods needed no voucher. Now that they were on the spot, the girls
were positive that no other place would have satisfied them.

The wagon had halted on a stretch of partially cleared pasture where the
early summer flowers were much in evidence. Not far away was a splendid
grove, chestnuts mingling with oak and maple, and the trees far enough
apart so that the grass had a chance to flourish at their roots. The
pleasant sound of running water, without which no landscape is complete,
rose from a ravine to the right, its rocky sides feathered with delicate
ferns. With little shrieks of rapture, the girls ran from one point of
beauty to another, while Lucy unharnessed, her efforts supplemented by
willing, though awkward assistance on Peggy's part.

Contrary to the habit of most picnic parties, which eat on arriving at
their destination, regardless of the hour, the delights of exploration
for a time rendered these picnickers oblivious to the clamorous voice of
appetite. It was Dorothy who first turned the thoughts of the company in