heard a good sermon," said Billy, making conversation in his
turn.

"Oh, _yes_, very. I listened to almost all of it. Mr. Clark said
something about something being as many as the hairs of your head, and
there was a bald-headed man who sat right in front of us, and he only
had the teentiest bit of hair, just like a little lambrequin around his
head. So I thought I could easily count his hairs, because they were so
straight and so long, and so few of them, anyway. And, Billy, do you
know, I got so interested that I began to count right out loud once, and
I stood up, right there in church, Billy, while the minister was
preaching, to see round his head better, and Eunice pulled me down. I
was _so_ ashamed."

Billy looked so shocked that Cricket hastened to add:

"There weren't very many people who saw me, though, for we sat pretty
far back. I _did_ listen to the sermon after that, though. I had only
counted up to two hundred. I just wonder how many hairs a person has on
his head, anyway. I mean a person with the regular amount."

"Three hundred?" hazarded Billy, hazily.

"No, indeed; more than that. Many as a thousand, I guess. Oh, Billy, you
have a splendid lot of hair! S'pose I count it this afternoon?"

Billy chuckled assent.

"Let's go out in the orchard, back of the beach. It's all quiet and
shady there. The girls will be down by the rocks, and the boys are going
for a long walk. So there will be nobody to interrupt us. It will take
most all the afternoon, I guess, but I've always wanted to know how many
hairs grow on a person's head. I'll come for you after dinner, Billy,
don't forget!" and, having arrived at the house, Cricket skipped up the
porch steps, and went up-stairs to relieve herself of the bondage of her
pink organdie as soon as possible.

After dinner, Cricket found her willing slave waiting for her on the
piazza.

"Let's go right off before the others come out, for we don't want a
whole raft of children after us," she said, and so they went around the
house, through the side gate, into the orchard.

"Here's a lovely, shady spot. You sit right down on this hummock,
Billy," ordered Cricket. "Your hair is just _fine_ for counting," she
went on, taking off Billy's shining beaver.

Billy looked much flattered. He certainly did have a good crop for the
purpose. His hair was rather coarse, very wiry and bristling, about two
inches long, and as clean as a daily scrubbing in soap and water could
mak