tisfied and of satisfying somebody else, by and by. And the
intellectual part of her exercise she thought, and with modest reason,
would satisfy him now. Then she went down to her mother, quite ready
for the beach or for anything else.

It was one of those very warm October days which unlearned people call
Indian summer,--the foreground landscape yellow with stubble fields and
sered forest, the distance blue with haze. So soft and still, that the
faint murmur of the wheels as they rolled along the sandy road sounded
as if at a distance, and the twittering birds alone set off the
silence. Now and then came a farm wagon loaded with glowing corn, then
the field where the bereaved pumpkins lay among the bundles of
cornstalks. Sportsmen passed with their guns, schoolboys with their
nut-bags, and many were the greetings Faith received; for since the day
at Neanticut every boy thought he had a right to take off his hat to
her. From the midst of his cornfield, Mr. Simlins gave them a wave of
his hand,--from the midst of its blue waters the Sound sent a fresh
welcome.

"I declare, child," said Mrs. Derrick, as they neared the shore, "it's
real pleasant!"

"The tide's out, mother," said Faith, who had the spirit of action upon
her to-day--"we can get some clams now, if we're quick."

"I don't know but you're learning to be spry, among other things," said
her mother looking at her. "I thought you were as spry as you could be,
before. What haven't you done to-day, child!"

Faith laughed a little, and then jumping out of the wagon and helping
her mother down, was certainly 'spry' in getting ready for the
clam-digging. Her white dress had been changed for a common one and
that was carefully pinned up, and a great kitchen apron was put on to
cover all but the edges of skirts as white as the white dress, and with
shoes and stockings off, basket and hoe in hand, she stood ready almost
before her mother had accomplished fastening up old Crab to her
satisfaction. Mrs. Derrick on her part prepared herself as carefully
for work (though not quite so evidently for play) and the two went down
to the flats. The tide was far out,--even the usual strips of water
were narrow and far apart. Wherever they could, the little shell-fish
scrambled about and fought their miniature battles in one-inch water;
but at the edge of the tall shore-grass there was no water at all,
unless in the mud, and the shell-fish waited, by hundreds, for the
tide. Her