e Daggett's Hills are to Perch River up your way."

"I'd like to be therre now," said Archer.

"I'd rather be in France," Tom answered.

"Of course it'll fizzle out in places and we'll come to villages, but
there's enough woods ahead of us for us to go twenty miles tonight.
That's the way it seems to me, anyway."

Once Tom ventured out on hands and knees into the woods in quest of
water, and returned with the good news that he had had a refreshing
drink from a brook to which he directed Archer.

"Do you know what this is?" he said, emptying an armful of weeds on the
ground. "It's chicory. If I dared to build a fire I could make you a
good imitation of coffee with that. But we can eat the roots, anyway.
Now I remember it used to be in the geography in school about so much
chicory growing in the Alps----"

"Oh, Ebeneezerr!" shouted Archer, much to Tom's alarm. "I'm glad you
said that 'cause it reminds me about the mussels."

"The _what_?"

"'The mountain streams abound with the pearrl-bearing mussels which are
a staple article of diet with the Alpine natives,'" quoted Archer in
declamatory style. "I had to write that two hundred and fifty times f'rr
whittlin' a hole in the desk----"

"I s'pose you were after a souvenir," said Tom dryly.

"Firrst I wrote it once 'n' then I put two hundred and forty-nine ditto
marrks. _Ebenezerr!_ Wasn't the teacherr mad! I had to write it two
hundred and fifty times f'rr vandalism and two hundred and fifty morre
f'rr insolence."

"Served you right," said Tom.

"Oh, I guess you weren't such an angel in school either!" said Archer.
"I'll never forget about those pearrl-bearing mussels as long as I
live--you can bet!"

Tom separated the chicory roots from the stalks and Archer went to wash
them in the stream. In a little while he returned with a triumphant
smile all over his round, freckled face and half a dozen mussels in his
cupped hands.

"_Now_ what have you got to say, huh? It's good I whittled that desk and
was insolent--you can bet!"

Tom's practical mind did not quite appreciate this line of reasoning,
but he was glad enough to see the mussels, the very look of which was
cool and refreshing.

"I always said I had no use for geographies except to put mustaches and
things on the North Pole explorers and high hats on Columbus and Henry
Hudson, but, believe _me_, I'm glad I remembered about those
pearrl-bearing mussels--hey, Slady? I hope the Alpine natives don't take