bridle-path.

"Say! I'm telling you something," exploded Teddy Tucker, who did not
purpose to have his tale lost sight of. "Something about Timothy Derby."

"Oh, dear me, yes!" exclaimed Bobby. "Do tell it and get it over, Ted."

The twins both began to chuckle and Teddy had some difficulty in going on
with his story. But it seemed they had been at the Derby place the evening
before and Timothy had been "boring everybody to distraction," Ted said,
reading "Excelsior" to the family.

"And believe me!" interjected Tommy Tucker, "that kid can elocute."

"And he's always been at it," hurried on his twin, giggling. "Here's what
Mr. Derby says Timothy recited the first time he ever spoke a piece at a
Sunday School concert. You know; the stuff the little mites cackle."

"How elegant are your expressions, Teddy!" remarked Louise, sighing.

But she was amused as well as the others when Ted produced a paper on
which he had written down the verse Mr. Derby said his son had recited,
and just as Timothy had said it!

"Listen, all of you," begged Teddy. "Now, don't laugh and spoil it all,
Tom. Listen:

"'Lettuce denby uppan doing
Widow Hartford N E fate,
Still H E ving, still pursuing,
Learn to label Aunty Waite.'"

Libbie's voice rose above the general laughter, and she was quite warm.
For Libbie's was a loyal soul.

"I don't care! I don't believe it. His father is always making fun of
Timothy. He--he is cruel, I think. And, anyway, Timothy was only a little
boy then."

"What did he want to label his Aunty Waite for?" demanded Bob.

"You all be pretty good," called Betty, seeing that Libbie was really
getting angry. "If you aren't I'll ask Timothy and Libbie to my party at
Mountain Camp and none of the rest of you shall go."

"Easy enough said, that, Betty," Bob rejoined. "You haven't very much
chance of going there. But, crimpy! wouldn't it be great if Uncle Dick
did take us?"

"Remember our school duties, children," drawled Louise. "'Still H E ving,
still pursuing.' We must not cry for the moon."

Thus, with a great deal of laughter and good-natured chatter, the
cavalcade trotted on and came finally to what Louise and Bobby said was
the entrance to Bolter's Farm.

"All our horses were raised on this farm," explained Louise. "Daddy says
that Lewis Bolter has the finest stock of any horseman in Virginia. Much
of it is racing stock. He sells to the great stables up north. One of his
men will