isit to her trunk up in the loft, after which she and Agony disappeared
into the woods.

The river was bathed in living fire from the rays of the setting sun
when the little fleet of boats pushed out from the shore and began
circling around the floating dock where Miss Judy and Tiny Armstrong,
with the help of three or four other councilors, were passing out plates
of salad, sandwiches and cups of milk. Having received their supplies,
the canoes backed away and went moving up or down the river as the
paddlers desired, sometimes two or three canoes close together,
sometimes one alone, but all, whether alone or in groups, filling the
occupants of the launch with desperate envy. A dozen or more girls these
were, still in the Minnow class, still denied the privilege of going out
in a canoe because they had not yet passed the swimming test.

Oh-Pshaw, alas, was still one of them. She looked wistfully at Agony, a
Shark, in charge of a canoe with Hinpoha and Gladys and Jo Severance as
companions, gliding alongside of Sahwah and Undine Cirelle on the one
side and Katherine and Jean Lawrence on the other. She heard their
voices floating across the water as they laughingly called to each other
and sang snatches of songs aimed at Miss Judy and Tiny Armstrong on the
floating dock; heard Tiny Armstrong remark to Miss Judy, "There's the
best group of canoeists we've ever had in camp. Won't they make a
showing on Regatta Day, though!"

Oh-Pshaw longed with all her heart on floating supper nights to belong
to that illustrious company and go gliding up and down the river like a
swan instead of chugging around in the launch, sitting cramped up to
make room for the supper supplies that covered the floor on the trip
out, and baskets of used forks and spoons and cups on the trip back. It
was not a brilliant company that went in the launch. Jacob, Dr.
Grayson's helper about camp, ran the engine. Being desperately shy, he
attended strictly to business, and never so much as glanced at the girls
packed in behind him. Half a dozen of the younger camp girls, who never
did anything but whisper together, carve stones for their favorite
councilors, and giggle continually; three or four of the older girls who
sat silent as clams for the most part, and never betrayed any particular
enthusiasm, no matter what went on; Carmen Chadwick, who clung to
Oh-Pshaw and squeaked with alarm every time the launch changed her
course; and Miss Peckham, who from he