girls up, for a picnic. Ned Hassel started it; I
guess he wants to show off his sorrel horses; but that near horse of his
is as skittish a creetur as ever I see--I wouldn't ride after it, if I
was you.' 'No, no,' said father; 'Dimpey isn't going to have her neck
broken by _them_ beasts; Ned always drives 2.40, as he calls it, and
he'll be sure to race with the other teams if they give him a chance.'

Now, if there is anything I _do_ like, it is riding behind fast horses!
Father and Joe drive so slow I'd almost as soon walk, but whenever Biel
and I went off by ourselves we made the dust fly a little; it didn't
hurt our horses a bit, for they were in good pasture all summer, and got
as fat as pigs. I thought in a minute how much I'd like to go with Ned;
but I knew Polly Jane was watching me, go I said, sort o' careless like,
'I guess Ned could keep his horses from running if he wanted to; but he
hasn't asked me to ride yet; it will be time enough to say no when he
does.' Biel looked up and gave me a wink, and Calanthy said, 'You must
let me know a day or two before you are ready, Joe, so that I can get
some nice things made for you; our biscuits weren't quite light last
picnic, and I felt really ashamed of 'em.'

Calanthy is so _thoughtful_--I wish I was more like her.

After dinner was cleared away, I concluded I'd walk down to Preston--we
live about a mile out of the village--and get a new ribbon for my round
hat. I'm so glad the old pokey bonnets are gone but o' fashion--the
round ones are much more becoming to young people. I thought perhaps I
would meet some of the girls at the store, and hear more about the
picnic--and my hat was getting shabby for want of new strings, whether
or no. Just by the hay scales I met Jim Burt, the lame basketmaker,
shuffling along as usual with his baskets slung on his back. Poor Jim
was real simple, and couldn't do anything but weave baskets; he and his
mother lived alone in Rocky Hollow, away t'other side of Preston; they
were as poor as poverty, but Mrs. Burt managed to scramble along
somehow, and keep a home for herself and Jim; he hadn't wit enough to
take care of himself, but was very fond of his mother, and would do as
she told him.

I said good day to Jim, and was passing on, for I felt in a hurry to get
to the store, when he called after me, 'I say, Miss Dimpey! don't your
folks want any baskets? Mother's deown sick, and can't drink milk, and I
want to get her some tea, and