things. But Nan Sherwood never could
neglect her doll-babies and had often spent whole rainy days playing
with them in secret in the attic of the little house on Amity Street.

Her other dolls had been left, carefully wrapped and shielded from the
mice, at Tillbury; but Nan had been unable to leave Beautiful Beulah
behind. She packed her in the bottom of her trunk, unknown even to
Momsey in the hurry of departure. She had not told a soul here at Pine
Camp that she possessed a doll; she knew the boys would make fun of her
for sure.

But she often sat behind the drawn shades nursing the big doll and
crooning softly to it as she swung back and forth in the spring
rocking-chair. Tom had oiled the springs for her so that it no longer
creaked.

She did not confide even in Aunt Kate about the big doll. They were all
very kind to her; but Nan had a feeling that she ought to be grown up
here among her backwoods relatives. How could she ever face roguish Rafe
if he knew she liked to "play dolls?"

Fearing that even Margaret would tell, Nan had never shown the woods
girl Beautiful Beulah. Once she was afraid Margaret had come to the
window to peep in when Nan had the doll out of her hiding place; but she
was not sure, and Nan hoped her secret was still inviolate. At least,
Margaret never said a word about it.

Margaret's sisters had dolls made of corncobs, and rag babies with
painted faces like the one Margaret had thrown into the river and
drowned; but Margaret turned up her nose at them all. She never seemed
to want to "play house" as do most girls of her age. She preferred to
run wild, like a colt, with Bob in the woods and swamp.

Margaret did not wish to go into the swamp with Nan, however, on her
first visit to Toby Vanderwiller's little farm. This was some weeks
after the log drives, and lumbering was over for the season. Uncle Henry
and the boys, rather than be idle, were working every acre they owned,
and Nan was more alone than she had ever been since coming to Pine Camp.

She had learned the way to Toby's place, the main trail through the
swamp going right by the hummock on which the old man's farm was
situated. She knew there was a corduroy road most of the way--that is, a
road built of logs laid side by side directly over the miry ground. Save
in very wet weather this road was passable for most vehicles.

The distance was but three miles, however, and Nan liked walking.
Besides, nobody who has not seen a tama