e
very carefully, so she could creep under without mishap. And when they
neared the woods, he kicked all the twigs from her path, and lifted
aside the underbrush lest it touch her face. And at each opportunity
for this delicious solicitude they would look at each other, and then
quickly away.

That was in many ways an unforgettable picnic; many were the unheard-of
things carried out as soon as thought of. For example, the matter
of lunch. What need to go hungry when there were eggs in a farmer's
henhouse not a half-mile away, and potatoes in the farmer's store-house,
and sundry other edibles all spread out, as if waiting, in the farmer's
cellar? (Blessings on the farmer's wife for going a-visiting that day!)

The boys made an ingenious oven of stones and a glorious fire of brush;
and the girls made cunning dishes out of big, clean-washed leaves. Then,
when the potatoes and eggs were ready, all was devoured with a zest that
paid its own tribute to the fair young cooks; and the health of the fair
young cooks was drunk in Swan Creek water, cupped in sturdy masculine
hands; and even the girls tried to drink from those same cups, laughing
so they almost strangled. A mad, merry and supremely delightful feast.

After she had eaten, for some reason Missy felt a craving to wander off
somewhere and sit still a while. She would have loved to stretch out in
the grass, and half-close her eyes, and gaze up at the bits of shining,
infinite blue of the sky, and dream. But there was Raymond at her
elbow--and she wanted, even more than she wanted to be alone and dream,
Raymond to be there at her elbow.

Then, too, there were all the others. Someone shouted:

"What'll we do now? What'll we do, Missy?"

So the class president dutifully set her wits to work. Around the flat
white stones of the ford the water was dribbling, warm, soft, enticing.

"Let's go wading!" she cried.

Wading!

Usually Missy would have shrunk from appearing before boys in bare feet.
But this was a special kind of day which held no room for embarrassment;
and, more quickly than it takes to tell it, shoes and stockings were
off and the new game was on. Missy stood on a stepping-stone, suddenly
diffident; the water now looked colder and deeper, the whispering
cascadelets seemed to roar like breakers on a beach. The girls were all
letting out little squeals as the water chilled their ankles, and the
boys made feints of chasing them into deeper water.

Raymond