prints were exceptionally good
and clear.

Sarah, of course, devoted her morning to scrubbing the pig. The
doctor's shouts of laughter could not persuade her to curtail the
ceremony in the slightest detail. She had brought soap and towels and
brush with her and she gravely scrubbed and rinsed and dried Bony and
put him out in the sun to dry.

"He'll bake," protested Doctor Hugh, when, the pig's bath finished,
Sarah arranged him on a dry towel in the sun. "You'll have roast pork,
Sarah, if you're not careful."

"No I won't," answered Sarah confidently, straightening the pig's legs
for him since he did not offer to move.

"Can't he even grunt?" demanded Doctor Hugh who had never seen an
animal so willing to be waited upon.

"Of course he can grunt--" Sarah was indignant. "He can do anything."

"When the sun dries him on that side, she'll turn him over on the
other," whispered Rosemary. "You'll see."

The dam was built, the roll of films used up and Bony dry and
immaculate by the time Winnie rang the bell to tell them that lunch was
ready.

"We must have a picnic," said Doctor Hugh as they went up to the house,
he carrying Shirley, who objected to putting on her socks and sandals,
and Sarah carrying the pig with almost as much care. "I haven't been
to a picnic in years."

That afternoon he carried his mother off for a drive in the car, and
the three girls were left to their own devices. Rosemary's natural
inclination was to find Jack and ask him how his day was going, but
mindful of her brother's advice, she resolved to wait. She was playing
jack stones with Shirley and Sarah when Mrs. Hildreth came hurrying
across the lawn.

"Rosemary," she said, fanning her flushed face with her apron, "I
wonder if you'd do me a favor. All the men are busy and I couldn't ask
them to drop their work for such a trifle; and I have to grease the
chickens for lice, so I can't go myself."

Mrs. Hildreth always seemed to choose the hottest days for the most
unlovely tasks, reflected Rosemary, but Sarah held a different opinion.

"I'll come hold 'em for you, Mrs. Hildreth," she offered, rising in
such haste that she almost knocked Shirley off the step. "I love to
see you grease chickens!"

"All right, I do need somebody to help me," said Mrs. Hildreth
gratefully. "Rosemary, Miss Clinton telephoned me this morning she
wanted a dozen fresh eggs--why do they always say 'fresh eggs'?" she
broke off irritably. "'Tisn't