There were seven boys in the camp and the
wholesome young man who had them in charge was like a big brother. There
were two or three hours of daily study in which the boys were coached
for their autumn examinations. The remainder of the day was free for
sport--boating, fishing, swimming, tramps, and rides. One good time trod
on the heels of another.

The boys took walking tours through the picturesque country, following
the narrow, roundabout mountain roads, or scrambling up steep paths, or
making trails of their own. They visited Mountain Lake, set like a
clear, shining jewel on the mountain-top. They climbed Bald Knob and
gazed down on lovely valleys and outstretched mountains, range rising
beyond range. Time fails to describe the varied pleasures and interests
of the holiday, the close of which sent Pat, brown and sturdy, to
Woodlawn Academy. There he remained until the passing days and weeks and
months brought again vacation time. In June his father would return from
Panama, and after a few weeks at home Pat was to go with his Aunt Sarah
to the Adirondacks.

CHAPTER XVI

But we must go back to Anne, whom we left telling fairy tales to an
audience across the hedge. A rainy afternoon a few days later, a trim
nurse-maid brought a note to Miss Farlow. It was from Mrs. Marshall who
lived in the brown-stone house next door, asking that a little girl
whose name she did not know, a child with a big rag doll called
Honey-Sweet, might come to spend the afternoon with her children. Her
little boy, just recovering from typhoid fever, was peevish at being
kept indoors. He begged to see the girl who had entertained him a few
days before by telling fairy tales. A visit from her would be a kindness
to a sick child and an anxious mother.

"It is Anne Lewis that is wanted," said Miss Farlow. "I don't know
about letting her go. Visiting interferes with the daily tasks. I think
it better not to--"

"Please'm," entreated the bearer of the note, hastening to ward off a
refusal, "do, please'm, let the little girl come. He's that fractious he
has us all wore out. And he do say if the little girl don't come he'll
scream till night."

"Why doesn't his mother punish him?" asked Miss Farlow.

"Punish him! Punish Dunlop!" exclaimed Martha, in amazement.

"Oh, well! the child's ill. I suppose I must let her go," Miss Farlow
consented reluctantly. Anne was sent up-stairs to scrub her already
shining face, to brush her already o