going to cook your breakfast. This
may be your very last breakfast in a city apartment for months,
maybe years, so I'm going to cook it myself. I've got every trunk
packed--haven't I worked hard? Get up, you lazy boy!" and with
this she danced out of the room.

Every trunk packed! Did she intend taking them with her, and if
she did how could I stop her?

Back to the woods!

I began to feel like a street just before they put the asphalt down.

For some time I lay there with my brain huddled up in one corner of
my head, fluttering and frightened.

Presently an insistent scratch-r-r-r-r aroused me and I began to
sit up and notice things.

The things I noticed consisted chiefly of Tacks and the kitchen
carving knife. The former was seated on the floor laboriously
engineering the latter in an endeavor to produce a large
arrow-pierced heart on the polished panel of the bedroom door.

"What's the idea?" I inquired.

"I'm farewelling the place," he answered, mournfully. "They's only
two more doors to farewell after I get this one finished. Ain't
hearts awful hard to drawr just right, 'specially when the knife
slips!"

"You little imp!" I yelled; "do you mean to tell me you've been
doing a Swinnerton all over this man's house? S'cat!" and I
reached for a shoe.

"Cut it!" cried Tacks, indignantly. "Didn't the janitor say he'd
miss me dreadful, and how can he miss me 'less'n he sees my loving
rememberments all over the place every time he shows this
compartment to somebody else? And it is impolite to go 'way
forever and ever amen without farewelling the janitor!"

"Where do you think you're going?" I inquired, trying hard to be
calm.

"To the country to live, sister told me," Tacks bubbled; "and we
ain't never coming back to this horrid city, sister told me; and
you bought the house for a surprise, sister told me; and it has a
pizzazus all around it, sister told me; and a cow that gives
condensed milk, sister told me; and they's hens and chickens and
turkey goblins and a garden to plant potato salad, and they's a
barn with pigeons in the attic, and they's a lawn with a barbers
wire fence all around it, sister told me; and our trunks are all
packed, and we ain't never coming back here no more, sister told
me; and I must hurry and farewell them two doors!"

Tacks was slightly in the lead when my shoe reached the door, so he
won.

At breakfast we were joined by Uncle Peter and Aunt Martha, both of
whom