e
graduating from college when we parted. But it seems a long time ago,
doesn't it, Charley?"

Daddy Bunker agreed to that. Then he and Mr. Armatage talked business
for a while. The owner of the Meiggs Plantation wished to get more land
and hire more hands for the next year, and through Mr. Bunker he
expected to obtain capital for this. Aside from business the two old
friends desired very much to renew their boyhood acquaintance and have
their wives and children become acquainted.

"I've got half as many young ones as you have, Charley," said Mr.
Armatage. "You've beat me a hundred per cent. I wonder if we keep on
growing if the ratio will remain the same?"

Russ knew what "ratio" meant, and he asked: "How can it keep that way if
we grow to be seven little Bunkers? You can't have three and a half
little Armatages, you know."

"That's a smart boy!" exclaimed the tall man, smiling. "He can see
through a millstone just as quick as any boy I know. We'll hope that
there will be no half-portions of Armatages. I want all my children to
have the usual number of limbs and body."

"If you have little girls, and one was only half a little girl," said
Rose, "she would be worse off than a mermaid, wouldn't she?"

"She certainly would," agreed the planter.

"Why?" demanded Vi, who did not understand.

"Because half of her would be a fish," said Russ, laughing. "And you
would have to have all your house under water, Mr. Armatage, or the
mermaid could not get up and down stairs."

"I declare, Charley!" exclaimed the visitor, "these young ones of yours
are certainly blessed with great imaginations. I don't believe our
children ever thought of such things."

The next day the party went out to the Meiggs Plantation. It was a
two-hours' ride on a branch railroad and a shorter and swifter ride in
an automobile over the "jounciest" road the children had ever ridden on,
for part of the way led through a swamp and logs were laid down side by
side to keep the road, as Mr. Armatage laughingly said, from sinking
quite out of sight.

But the land on which the Armatage home stood was high and dry. It was a
beautiful grassy knoll, acres in extent, and shaded by wide-armed trees
which had scarcely lost any leaves it seemed to the little Bunkers,
though this was winter. On the wide, white-pillared veranda a very
handsome lady and two little girls and a little boy stood to receive the
party.

The children did not come forward to greet t