ed enough to spin. After
that, the visitors gathered about the sugar troughs like flies about
molasses. The Hammett Twins were not niggard souls by any manner of
means; but they kept warning the girls and boys all the afternoon to
"save room for supper."

In truth, the supper down at the old Hammett farmhouse, after the work
of the day was over, was the principal event. It grew cold towards
night, and that sharpened the young folks' appetites. The sap ceased
running before sunset, so they trooped down from the camp, the little
old ladies riding in their phaeton behind Ginger. Walky Dexter was
going to drive out to the Hammett place after supper to pick up his
load of young people.

But Walky was late--very late indeed. After supper the majority of the
young folk, both those from Poketown and in the near neighborhood,
began to play forfeit games; so Janice and Nelson Haley slipped away,
bidding the kind old ladies good-night, and set out to walk home.

The distance was under five miles; there was a good path all the way
despite the mud in the driveway, and there was a glorious moon. The
wind had died down and, although the night air was keen, it was a
perfect hour for walking.

CHAPTER XXIII

"DO YOU MEAN THAT?"

"It was right along here--at the bridge, you know--I saw you the first
time, Janice," said the teacher, when they had covered some two miles
of the way. "Do you remember?"

"I didn't suppose _you_ would," laughed Janice, blushing a little.
"And I stared at you because you were the first citified-looking person
I had seen since coming to Poketown."

He laughed. "Did I look as bad as all that? I was going fast, I know,
but I could see that you were a mighty pretty girl."

"Why! That's a story!" exclaimed Janice, seriously, and looking at the
young man in astonishment. "You know that isn't so. I'm _not_ pretty."

"Goodness me! am I not to have my way in _anything_?" demanded Nelson
Haley, in mock anger. "If I think you're pretty I can say so, I hope?"

"No, sir. Such ridiculous statements are forbidden. I shall think
your eyes need treating almost as badly as do poor little Lottie's.
Dear me, whatever are we going to do about that child?"

"If either of us were rich it would be an easy question to answer."

"True enough. I know what _I'd_ do. And I believe you'd be a very
generous young man, indeed--as long as being generous did not entail
any particular work on your part."