me bring my dinner out, so we can have a picnic, you and I,
and General."

Seth was bending over the box.

"Then I guess your dinner's kind o' spoiled too," he said.

"Oh, that doesn't matter so long as yours isn't. You see it's my own
fault, and serves me right. If it's very nasty we can give it all to
General; so it won't be wasted."

"No, it won't be wasted."

Rosebud watched her companion remove the things from the box, and wondered
if he were glad or sorry that she was going to have her dinner with him.
She had been wildly delighted at the thought of springing this surprise on
him, but now she felt doubtful, and a certain shyness kept her usually
busy tongue silent. She would have given much to know what Seth thought.
That was just where she found the man so unsatisfactory. She never did
know what he really thought about anything.

Seth found the note, and put it in his pocket. Now he set their meal on
the newly cut grass. Rosebud, with a thoughtfulness hardly to be expected
of her, turned Hesper loose. Then she sat down beside General and put the
tin dishes straight, according to her fancy. In silence she helped Seth to
a liberal portion of lukewarm stew, and cut the bread. Then she helped the
dog, and, finally, herself.

"Ma's a dear!" she suddenly exclaimed, when the silence had become irksome
to her. "She's making me a new dress. It's a secret, and I'm not supposed
to know."

"Ah! An' how d' you find out?"

"Oh, I asked Pa," Rosebud laughed. "I knew it was something for me. So
when he went to look at the new litter of piggies this morning I went with
him, and just asked him. I promised not to give him away. Isn't she a
dear?"

"Sure. Guess you like dress fixin's."

"Love them."

"Most gals do, I reckon."

"Well, you see, Seth, most girls love to look nice. Mrs. Rankin, even,
says that she'd give the world to get hold of a good dressmaker, and she's
married. Do you know even Wana likes pretty things, and that's just what
I'd like to talk to you about. You see, I've got twenty dollars saved, and
I just thought I would get Wana a nice dress, like white people wear. I
mean a good one. Do you know what store I could send to in Sioux City, or
Omaha, or even New York?"

"I ain't much knowledge o' stores an' things. But I 'lows it's a good
notion."

The man's brown eyes looked over at the girl as she plied her knife and
fork.

"Maybe," he went on, a moment later, "ther' ain't no need to spend them