een so naughty that I had called the naughtiest girl in
the whole county out to me?

But I could not bring myself to leave her. She was leaning forward and
looking at me now with mocking eyes.

"Are you afraid?" she demanded.

"Afraid of what?" I asked, knowing quite well what she meant.

"Of me?" she retorted.

At that second an agreeable truth overtook me. I leaned forward, too,
and put my hand on hers.

"Why, I like you!" I cried. She began laughing again, but this time
there was no mockery in it. She ran her fingers over the embroidery on
my linen frock, she examined the lace on my petticoat, looked at the
bows on my shoes, and played delicately with the locket dangling from
the slender chain around my neck.

"Do you know--other girls?" she almost whispered.

I nodded. "Lots and lots of 'em," I said. "Don't you?"

She shook her head in wistful denial.

"Us Madigans," she said, "keeps to ourselves." She said it so haughtily
that for a moment I was almost persuaded into thinking that they lived
their solitary lives from choice. But, glancing up at her, I saw a blush
that covered her face, and there were tears in her eyes.

"Well, anyway," said I quickly, "we know each other."

"Yes," she cried, "we do that!"

She got up, then, and ran to a great tree from which a stout grape-vine
was swinging, and pulling at it with her strong arms, she soon had it
made into a practical swing.

"Come!" she called--"come, let's swing together!"

She helped me to balance myself on the rope-like vine, and, placing her
feet outside of mine, showed me how to "work up" till we were sweeping
with a fine momentum through the air. We shrieked with excitement, and
urged each other on to more and more frantic exertions. We were like two
birds, but to birds flying is no novelty. With us it was, which made us
happier than birds. But I, for my part, was no more delighted with
my swift flights through the air than I was with the shining eyes and
flashing teeth of the girl opposite me. I liked her strength, and the
way in which her body bent and swayed. Once more, she seemed like a
wood-child--a wild, mad, gay creature from the tree. I felt as if I had
drawn a playmate from elf-land, and I liked her a thousand times
better than those proper little girls who came to see me of a Saturday
afternoon.

Well, there we were, rocking and screaming, and telling each other that
we were hawks, and that we were flying high over the world, whe