eap.

Fortunately the horse stood still. They were in the depths of the wood,
two miles from any house. A few startled birds fluttered among the
trees, and a gray squirrel paused in his day's work to view the scene.

Neal and Edith crawled out from the debris.

"Here's a pretty how-d'y' do," said Neal, surveying the wreck. "Edith, I
greatly fear you'll never drive in that buggy again."

He unhitched the horse, and then removed the remnants of the vehicle to
the side of what road there was, and partially hid them in the bushes.

"On that rock we split," said he, solemnly, pointing to a big stone that
rose high above a rut. "If I hadn't been so busy apologizing, Edith, we
wouldn't have gone to pieces. However, perhaps now you will use the
surrey."

[Illustration: THEN THEY STARTED HOME, CARRYING THE CUSHIONS BETWEEN
THEM.]

It was a dangerous speech, but Edith tried not to mind it, and she
helped Neal to clear away the stuff. Then they started for home, Ned
leading Robin, the old horse, while together they carried the cushions
and a lap-robe that had been under the seat.

Neal, his spirits raised by the accident, was in his gayest humor, and
the quiet air rang with his laughter as they trudged home in the heat.
Edith quite forgot her previous displeasure, and was so like her old
self that Neal in his turn was surprised, and thought she was almost as
nice as Cynthia. He had never seen her in this mood before.

* * * * *

When Neal abruptly deserted the children in his pursuit of Edith they
were at first too much amazed to do anything but stand perfectly still
and watch him. Then, as the back of the buggy disappeared behind the
trees, their wrath found words.

"Mean old things!" exclaimed Janet. "They've gone off and left us, an' I
tickerlarly wanted Neal to tell us a story."

Bob joined the group, his tail disconsolately lowered. His master had
been very harsh and unfeeling to leave him at home, he thought. The trio
stood in a row on the top step of the piazza. Then, with a feeble and
melancholy wag of the tail, Bob again stretched himself on the grass and
prepared to make the best of a bad bargain.

The others were not so easily appeased.

"We've got nuffun' to do," grumbled Willy. "I wish we could play wif de
chickens."

"We can't do that," said Janet, decidedly. "We can't touch those
chickens if we don't want a terrible spanking. You know what papa said."

The chickens