"_I_ can't find my middy," Jean Lawrence was lamenting, paying no heed
to Oh-Pshaw's troubles in regard to hosiery.

Tiny Armstrong, reaching down behind her bed for some missing article of
her costume, gave the bed such a shove that it went flying out of the
tent carrying the rustic railing with it, and they heard it go bumping
down the hillside.

"Strike one!" called Tiny ruefully. "That's what comes of being so
strong. I'll knock the tent down next."

"Will somebody please tell me where my middy is?" Jean cried tragically.
"I can't find it anywhere."

"Will someone tell _me_ where the other leg of my bloomers is?"
exclaimed Katherine. "I've shoved both feet through the same leg three
times, now. There goes the breakfast bugle!"

"Oh, where is my other stocking?"

"Where is my middy?"

"Who's gone south with my shoes?"

The threefold wail floated down on the breeze as footsteps began to run
down the Alley in the direction of the bungalow. A few minutes later the
occupants of Bedlam slid as unobtrusively as possible into the lighted
bungalow; Oh-Pshaw with her bloomers down around her ankles in a Turkish
effect, to hide the fact that she had on only one stocking; Jean with
her sweater buttoned tightly around her, Katherine with her red silk tie
bound around one knee to gather up the fullness of her bloomer leg, for
the elastic band had burst from the strain of accommodating two feet at
once; and Tiny had one white sneaker and one red Pullman slipper on.
Glancing around at the rest they saw many others in the same
plight--middies on hindside before, odd shoes and stockings, sweaters
instead of middies, and various other parodies on the regular camp
uniform--and immediately they ceased to feel conspicuous. Taking their
places around the table the campers proceeded to sing one of the morning
greetings:

"Good morning to you,
Good morning to you,
Good morning, dear comrades,
Good morning to you!"

"Did you have a good night's sleep?" was a question that made the
rounds of the table, with many droll replies, as the cereal was being
passed. Hilarity increased during the meal, as the absurdity of eating
cereal and fruit and toast at eight o'clock in the evening overcame the
girls one after the other, and the room rang with witty songs made up on
the spur of the moment.

At "Morning Sing" which followed breakfast, they solemnly sang "When
Morning Gilds the Skies," "Awake, my soul, and with the sun,"