e kind of a day
that makes me feel bright pink!"

"Where is Sarah, anyway?" asked Kitty. "I haven't seen her since
breakfast. Surely she didn't miss the service?"

"No, I saw her sitting by a big tree 'way at the back," said Amanda.

"It isn't like Sarah to take a back seat--at church," remarked Blue
Bonnet. "I believe she must be cross because we teased her this
morning."

Grandmother and Sarah were already deep in preparations for dinner
when the others straggled into camp. The well-cooked meal of muffins,
fried ham, potatoes and stewed dried fruit they served met with
visible as well as audible approval.

"Picnic lunches are more fun, but this kind of a meal is
more--filling," said Blue Bonnet. "Let's eat all we can now and have
just bread and milk for supper--we've two cans of fresh milk in the
creek."

"Blue Bonnet seems to have developed a sudden liking for 'jarring
notes,' doesn't she, girls?" asked Kitty.

When dinner was done and the dishes washed, they all sought the
buck-board seats in the lounging room.

"If we only had a book now, it would be fine to have Grandmother read
aloud," remarked Blue Bonnet.

"You wouldn't let Sarah bring any books," Amanda reminded her.

"Nevertheless, methinks Sarah looks as if she had one up her sleeve,"
said Debby.

"Not up my sleeve," Sarah confessed, "--but in my bag. I'll go get
it,--it's 'Don Quixote,' in Spanish and English both."

"Did you bring the drawn-work, too?" asked Kitty. "My, Sarah, but you
are a first-rate smuggler!"

"Now that suspicion has raised its snaky head, I'd like to know--why
is Sarah, long after the dishes are done, still wearing that apron?"
Blue Bonnet had sent a random shot, but to her surprise Sarah flushed
to the roots of her blond hair.

She rose hastily to go in search of "Don Quixote," but the other girls
were too quick for her. They pitilessly tore the shielding apron from
her shoulders, and the newly sponged and pressed middy jacket and
khaki skirt stood revealed in all their guilty freshness.

"They've been ironed!" gasped Kitty.

"What do you think of that for selfishness,--not to let a soul know
she had an iron?" demanded Debby.

"I got it over at Mrs. Judson's. And none of you said you wanted an
iron," said Sarah.

"And do you mean to say that our Sarah, daughter of the Reverend
Samuel Blake, wilfully broke the Sabbath by ironing?" Concentrated
horror appeared on Kitty's saucy countenance.

"She probably think