rhyme about it
once:

"'The book is on the chair,
And the hat is on the stair,
And the boots are anywhere,
Children mine!'"

Hildegarde especially enjoyed helping to arrange the girls' room,
tacking up the curtains, and putting fresh flowers (from the Roseholme
greenhouse) in the vases. To-morrow she would see those dear girls, and
then who so happy as she!

And to-morrow came, and with it Bell and Gertrude, escorted by their
father. All the Merryweathers were now here, except Roger. The question
was on Hildegarde's lips several times, "When will he come?" but somehow
she waited a little each time, and the moment passed, till she heard Mr.
Merryweather say:

"A letter from Roger, Miranda! He will be here next week,--day
uncertain, but surely in time for Christmas."

A chorus of joy arose, in which Hildegarde joined heartily.

"Think!" said Bell. "We have not seen Roger since the summer; hardly
since we have seen you, Hildegarde. Oh, my dear, how long it seems since
camp! and yet when you look at it the other way, it might be yesterday.
Heigh, ho! whose turn is it to get supper to-night? and who is going to
get the fish for the chowder?"

"Dear, happy days!" said Hildegarde. "I have not lost a minute of one
of them, Bell. If I should wake up to-morrow morning and find myself at
camp, I should not be in the least surprised, but should just 'put the
kettle on and stand by to go about.'"

"Dear old camp motto!" said Bell. "It makes a pretty good one anywhere,
Hilda, do you know? If they give me the class oration,--the girls are
talking about it,--I might take that for my text."

"Are you talking camp and graduation," put in Gertrude, who came into
the room at this moment, "when Christmas is almost here? Oh, think of
it, and we have not planned what we are going to do, or--or anything!"

"Speak for yourself, Gertrude," laughed Hildegarde. "I have three bureau
drawers full of things ready, and I ought to be tying up a box this
minute, to go out West."

"Missionary box?" asked Bell.

"No,--at least, not in the regular way. But there are some distant
cousins out in Colorado,--they have a hard time to get along, and there
are a great many of them,--and Mamma and I always send them a box at
Christmas. A kind of grab-bag box, with clothes and whatever we can
think of."

"My dear," cried Bell, sitting up with shining eyes, "don't you want
some contributions? Let me