eyes had taught him a lesson in unselfishness; and
whether the portion coming to him were much or little, each child
should have its share.

Then he looked up and saw Saint Anne returning. Upon her outstretched
arms she balanced the pewter platter, and upon this was set--Oh!
glory! one whole, small chicken delicately roasted, as only Chloe
could have prepared it. A half dozen biscuits flanked it and a big
bunch of grapes. A tin cup fairly shone in its high state of polish,
but its brilliancy was nothing as compared with the shining face of
Saint Anne.

Behind her trailed four brothers and sisters, each stepping very
softly as if in awe of the unexpected feast before them. The fifth
child was missing, Saint Augustine, the mischief of the household, who
was oftener under foot than out of sight.

"Where's other brother, Saint Anne? Shall we wait for him? Did your
mother save any for herself? Did Gerald need me?"

It was a long string of questions to be answered and the little girl
counted them off upon her fingers.

"I don't know where Saint Augustine is. Likely he'll be 'round real
soon. I guess we won't wait--I mean the others needn't--they look so
watery around the mouth. No, mamma didn't save any. She said she
didn't care for it. Funny, wasn't that? As if anybody, even a grown-up
mamma, could help caring! And the Gerald boy was asleep. I most wish
he would be all the time, he--he speaks so sort of sharp like. Mamma
says that's cause he's gettin' well. Gettin'-well-folks are gen'ally
cross and it's a good sign. What you doing?"

Jim had pulled another burdock leaf and spread a bit of sweet fern
upon it. He had an idea that Dorothy would have objected to the odor
of burdock as mingled with a dinner. Then he carefully sliced with his
pocket knife the daintiest portions of the little fowl and some of the
bread. He added the finest of the grapes and turning to Dorcas and
Sheba, said:

"Now, girlies, Saint Anne brought the dinner away out here, but it's
your job to take this much back to your mother. You are to tell her
that this is a picnic and nobody would enjoy it unless she picnics,
too. Will you tell her? Will you be real careful? If you will I
promise you we others won't eat a mouthful till you get back."

They consented, but not too eagerly. They loved mamma, course; but
they loved chicken, too. It required considerable faith on their part
to go way back to the cabin and leave their dinners behind them,
exp