For answer, Midget pointed out of the window, toward which Kitty turned
for the first time.

"Oh!" said she, dropping back on the edge of the bed.

And, indeed, there seemed to be nothing else to say. Both girls were so
overwhelmed with disappointment that they could only look at each other
with despondent faces.

Silently they began to draw on their stockings and shoes, and though
determined they wouldn't do anything so babyish as to cry, yet it was no
easy matter to keep the tears back.

"Up yet, chickabiddies?" called Mr. Maynard's cheery voice through the
closed door.

"Yes, sir," responded two doleful voices.

"Then skip along downstairs as soon as you're ready; it's a lovely day
for our picnic."

Midge and Kitty looked at each other. This seemed a heartless jest
indeed! And it wasn't a bit like their father to tease them when they
were in trouble. And real trouble this surely was!

They heard Mr. Maynard tap at King's door, and call out some gay
greeting to him, and then they heard King splashing about, as if making
his toilet in a great hurry. All this spurred the girls to dress more
quickly, and it was not long before they were tying each other's
hair-ribbons and buttoning each other's frocks.

Then they fairly ran downstairs, and, seeing Mr. Maynard standing by the
dining-room window, they both threw themselves into his arms, crying
out, "Oh, Father, isn't it _too_ bad?"

"What?" asked Mr. Maynard, quizzically.

"Now, Daddy," said Midget, "don't tease. Our hearts are all broken
because it's raining, and we can't have our picnic."

"Can't have our picnic!" exclaimed Mr. Maynard, in apparent excitement.
"Can't have our picnic, indeed! Who says we can't?"

"I say so!" exclaimed Kingdon, who had just entered the room. "Nobody
but ducks can have a picnic to-day."

"Oh, well," said Mr. Maynard, looking crestfallen, "if King says so that
settles it. _I_ think it's a beautiful picnic day, but far be it from me
to obtrude my own opinions."

Just here Mrs. Maynard and Rosy Posy came in. They were both smiling,
and though no one expected the baby to take the disappointment very
seriously, yet it did seem as if Mother might have been more
sympathetic.

"I suppose we can eat the ice-cream in the house," said Marjorie, who
was inclined to look on the bright side if she could possibly find one.

"That's the way to talk!" said her father, approvingly. "Now you try,
Kingdon, to meet the situation as it