cot for Grandmother. I don't mind bumpy beds myself--it isn't right to
be too comfortable when you're camping out."

Kitty stood, mirror in hand, ministering unto a blistered nose, and as
Sarah gave a final grunt before closing her eyes, she called suddenly:
"Sarah Blake, don't you dare go to sleep 'til we've drawn lots."

"Lots?" Sarah blinked sleepily.

"To see who's to get breakfast. After that we'll take turns, two at a
time."

"But there are five of us," protested Debby.

"Grandmother says to count her in. We'll give her Sarah for a
running-mate,--she's about the only one that can keep Sallykins in
order."

Sarah woke up at that to give the speaker a surprised and grieved
look, at which Blue Bonnet burst into a laugh. "I'll label my next
joke, Old Reliable," she said.

Kitty looked about her for something which they could use for lots.

Nothing seeming appropriate, she suddenly tweaked three bright hairs
from her own curly head, arranged them in lengths and held them out
for the others to draw.

"Shortest gets breakfast; next lunch, longest dinner," she announced
tersely.

"Hooray for us!" cried Amanda, catching Blue Bonnet around the waist
and hopping about on one foot, the other being unshod. "Lunch for us.
Let's think up something easy."

Kitty made a grimace at the short hair left in her hand. "Breakfast!
Debby, I call that hard luck."

"The others may call it harder," prophesied Blue Bonnet.

"Never mind, the Senora and Sarah will make up for it at dinner-time,"
said Kitty.

"Night-night!" said Blue Bonnet, preparing to leave. With her hand on
the tent-flap she paused. "Shake out your shoes before you put them on
in the morning!" she said; and with this dark warning fled.

Camp Judson had awakened, had had a fiercely contested water-fight,
had breakfasted, tidied up, and most of its inmates scattered in quest
of adventures, before the tired girls of _Poco Tiempo_ gathered for
the morning meal. Kitty and Debby, enveloped in capacious gingham
aprons, and appearing somewhat flushed and nervous, stood waiting to
serve.

Mrs. Clyde gave the two cooks an approving smile. "Everything looks
charming," she said as she took her place at the head of the board.

The table here was spread with white oilcloth, and the dishes of blue
enamelled-ware showed bright and cheerful against the immaculate
expanse. Bowls of steaming oatmeal porridge stood at each place, and
huge mugs of cocoa. But it was at non