cky man to
have such fren's."

"Don't look so sad over it, Jean!" exclaimed Hippy. "Be merry, and gayly
dance as I do." He essayed several fantastic steps over the frozen
ground, stubbed his toe on a projecting root and lunged forward, falling
heavily into a huge snowdrift, his hands and face plowing into the snow.

"Ha, ha!" jeered Reddy. "'Be merry, and gayly dance as I do.' No, thank
you. I prefer to walk along like an ordinary human being."

"That is exactly what you are," was Hippy's calm retort from the
snowdrift, "'an ordinary human being.'" Floundering out of the drift he
shook himself free of snow and, undaunted by his fall, went on skipping
and pirouetting toward the cabin, while his companions shrieked mirthful
comments into his apparently unhearing ears.

How fast the afternoon and evening slipped away! The girls insisted on
helping Jean with the dinner, and at half-past five the whole party sat
down at the rude table that had been improvised by the boys the day
before. Eating in the heart of the forest made things taste infinitely
better than at home. Never before had there been such coffee, or steak,
or baked potatoes! There was dessert, too--Mrs. Nesbit's famous fruit
cake and Mrs. Harlowe's equally prized mince pie, besides fruit and
nuts, Jean adding the latter to the feast. Then everyone's health was
drunk in grape juice, and it was almost seven o'clock before Jean and
his guests rose from the table.

"Ten minutes to seven," declared David, consulting his watch. "We must
leave here at eight o'clock. We ought to be home by nine. I feel very
responsible for these youngsters, Jean. It was I who agreed to play
chaperon."

"Youngsters, indeed," growled Reddy scornfully. "Listen to Methuselah."

"Tell us a story before we go, Jean," begged Grace. She loved to hear
the old hunter tell in his quaint way of his many perilous adventures in
the great northwestern woods of Canada, where he had spent so many years
of his life.

"If Mamselle Grace like I will tell of w'en I track the fierce panther
who have kill my lambs, an' what happen to me."

"Oh, splendid!" cried Grace. "We should love to hear it."

The glow from the big back log reflected the interested faces of the
others. Jean's stories were always well received. Settling himself
cross-legged on the floor, his back against the wall, he related how,
after tracking a panther all day, he had slipped while going down a
steep bank and losing his footi