merican lady some
things."

"Yes, but the jiu jitsu doesn't help you when you're tired, does it?"

"Ah, but I shall not be tired. You will see. Otoyo's feet great bigly."

She stuck out her funny stubby little feet for inspection and the girls
all laughed. As a matter of fact, she was a sturdy little body and knew
the secret of keeping her strength. She achieved marvels in her studies;
was up with the dawn and the last person in the house to tumble into
bed, but she was never tired, never cross and out of humor, and was
always a model of cheerful politeness.

"Art ready?" asked Katherine Williams, appearing at the door in a natty
brown corduroy walking suit.

"Can'st have the face to ask the question when we've been waiting for
you ten minutes?" replied Judy.

It was a glorious September day when the walking club from Queen's
started on its first expedition. The rules of the club were few, very
elastic and susceptible to changes. It met when it could, walked until
it was tired and had no fixed object except that of resting the eyes
from the printed page, relaxing the mind from its arduous labors and
accelerating the circulation. Anyone who wanted to invite a guest could,
and those who wished to remain at home were not bound to go.

"Did anybody decide where we were going?" asked Molly.

"Yes, I did," announced Margaret. "Knob Ledge is our destination. It's
the highest point in Wellington County and commands a most wonderful
view of the surrounding country-side----"

"Dear me, you sound like a guide book, Margaret," put in Judy.

"Professor Green is the guide book," answered Margaret. "He told me
about it. You know he is the only real walker at Wellington. Twenty
miles is nothing to him and Knob Ledge is one of his favorite trips."

"I hope that isn't twenty miles," said Jessie anxiously.

"Oh, no, it's barely six by the short way and ten by the road. We shall
go by the short way."

"Isn't Molly lovely to-day?" whispered Nance to Judy, after the walking
expedition had crossed the campus and started on its way in good
earnest.

Molly was a picture in an old gray skirt and a long sweater and tam of
"Wellington blue," knitted by one of her devoted sisters during the
summer.

"She's a dream," exclaimed Judy with loyal enthusiasm. "She glorifies
everything she wears. Just an ordinary blue tam o'shanter, exactly the
same shape and color that a hundred other Wellington girls wear, looks
like a halo on a saint