tic. I think he is just the cleverest
little dog in the world."

"My tale's true, too," said Linda. "No, I didn't make it up, Nina; he
really did. There are only two stories left now, Connie's and
Marian's. I wonder which comes next."

"Connie's," said Marian. "And it's in poetry, too. It's called:

THE S.S.L.U.

By CONSTANCE MARY CAMDEN

Said the girls of the third class 'All we
A Secret Society will be.
Though the second may hover
Our words to discover,
It's nothing they'll hear or they'll see.

They may listen at doors in the hall,
Or round by the keyhole may crawl,
They may search through the schools,
But they won't find our rules,
And they'll never know nothing at all'."

The girls clapped, both at the sentiments expressed, and at the
poetical setting.

"I know they'd listen if they could," said Connie. "They're mean
enough for anything. What's that noise?"

"Why, nothing."

"I thought I heard a kind of snorting."

"I expect it was only my cold," said Nina. "Do go on, Marian; we want
your story."

"But I did hear something," persisted Connie. "I believe it was
outside the door, too, and I'm going to look."

She rose hastily, and, creeping softly to the door, opened it
suddenly, disclosing the laughing faces of half a dozen of the second
class, who had been taking it in turns to listen at the keyhole, and
who jumped up in a hurry and fled from the outburst of wrath which
greeted them.

"Oh! Oh!" shouted Sybil Lake. "Won't they hear or see anything? Don't
make too sure!"

"I have a little dog that swallows me wherever I go!" called Eileen
Butler. "I think he's just the cleverest little dog in the world!"

"The slugs are crawling fast!" cried Lucy Martin. The injured third
had risen in a body and pursued the intruders along the passage even
to the door of their own sitting-room; but, seeing Miss Barrett coming
downstairs, they did not dare to carry the fight into the enemy's
camp, and were obliged to return to the playroom, and hold an
indignation meeting over the glasses of milk and biscuits which
arrived at that moment for supper.

"We must read Marian's story to-morrow," said Sylvia. "Wasn't it
horrid of them? I wonder how much they really heard? Next time we
shall have to stuff up the keyhole, and keep opening the door every
few minutes to see that the coast is clear. There's one good thing:
they didn't discover our signs, or t