ones."

The young gentlemen did not take the hint as quickly as Miss Celia hoped
they would; in fact, both looked rather blank at the suggestion, as boys
generally do when it is proposed that girls--especially small
ones--shall join in any game they are playing.

"P'r'aps it would be too much trouble," began Betty, in her winning
little voice.

"I can make my own," declared Bab, with an independent toss of the head.

"Not a bit; I'll make you the jolliest small bow that ever was,
Betcinda," Thorny hastened to say, softened by the appealing glance of
the little maid.

"You can use mine, Bab; you've got such a strong fist, I guess you could
pull it," added Ben, remembering that it would not be amiss to have a
comrade who shot worse than he did, for he felt very inferior to Thorny
in many ways, and, being used to praise, had missed it very much since
he retired to private life.

"I will be umpire, and brighten up the silver arrow I sometimes pin my
hair with, for a prize, unless we can find something better," proposed
Miss Celia, glad to see that question settled, and every prospect of the
new play being a pleasant amusement for the hot weather.

It was astonishing how soon archery became the fashion in that town, for
the boys discussed it enthusiastically all that evening, formed the
"William Tell Club" next day, with Bab and Betty as honorary members,
and, before the week was out, nearly every lad was seen, like young
Norval, "With bended bow and quiver full of arrows," shooting away, with
a charming disregard of the safety of their fellow-citizens. Banished by
the authorities to secluded spots, the members of the club set up their
targets and practiced indefatigably, especially Ben, who soon discovered
that his early gymnastics had given him a sinewy arm and a true eye;
and, taking Sanch into partnership as picker-up, he got more shots out
of an hour than those who had to run to and fro.

[Illustration: MATTY KILBURN AND HER FATHER AT THE TREE.]

Thorny easily recovered much of his former skill, but his strength had
not fully returned, and he soon grew tired. Bab, on the contrary, threw
herself into the contest heart and soul, and tugged away at the new bow
Miss Celia gave her, for Ben's was too heavy. No other girls were
admitted, so the outsiders got up a club of their own, and called it
"The Victoria," the name being suggested by the magazine article, which
went the rounds as general guide and reference-bo