division of labor," put in Grace, "so as to prevent
future talk."

While some of them gathered sticks and dried branches, the others began
clearing away the snow in an open space, where the fire could be built.

Anne and Jessica unpacked the luncheon and poured some coffee from a
glass jar into a tin pot to be heated, while Tom peeled several long
switches and impaled pieces of bacon on the ends to be cooked over the
fire, which was soon blazing comfortably.

"How do you like this, girls?" he asked presently, when the broiling
bacon began to give out an appetizing smell and the hot coffee added its
fragrance to the air. "How's this for a winter picnic?"

"I like it better than a summer picnic," interposed Hippy. "The food is
better and there are no gnats."

"Gnats are very fond of fat people," said Reddy. "They drink down their
blood like--circus lemonade."

"Get busy and give me some coffee, Red-head," said Hippy, who sat on a
stump and ate energetically, while the others were broiling their slices
of bacon.

"Here, Hippy," said Nora, pouring out a steaming cupful, "if it wasn't
interesting to watch you store it away, perhaps I wouldn't wait on you
hand and foot like this."

"This is the best way in the world to cook bacon," said Tom, holding his
wand over the fire with several pieces of bacon stuck on the forked
ends.

"A very good method, if your stick doesn't burn up," replied Anne.
"There! Mine fell into the fire. I knew it would."

Meantime, Jessica and Grace were frying the rest of the slices in a pan.

"That's good enough, but this is better and quicker," said Grace.
"There's no reason for dispensing with all the comforts of a home just
because you choose to be a woodsman, Tom."

They never forget how they enjoyed that luncheon, devouring everything
to the ultimate crumb and the final drop of hot coffee.

Although it was bitterly cold, they did not feel the chill. The brisk
walk, the warm fire and their hearty meal had quickened their blood, and
even Anne, the smallest and most delicate of them all, felt something of
Tom's enthusiasm for the deep woods.

At last it was time to start again.

The boys were trampling down the fire while the girls began stowing the
cups and coffee-pot into a basket. The woods seemed suddenly to have
grown very quiet.

"How still it is," whispered Anne. "I feel as if everything in the world
had stopped. There is not a breath stirring."

"Perhaps it has," answere