with much laughter and gaiety.

"Out in the woods you don't have to pretend you hate to eat, do you,
mother?" said Suzanna.

"Nor anywhere else that I know of," said Mrs. Procter, smiling.

"But I don't like to see anyone eat as though he liked to eat," said
Suzanna. "May I have two or three grapes, mother?"

She received her grapes. And quiet fell, while each did his best to
clear the table. At length when the meal was concluded, and the basket
repacked, and the pewter knives and forks carefully wrapped in a napkin,
the children begged Suzanna for stories.

So she began, and seemed never to fall short of material. Her mother
listened, dreamily contented, till another hour passed and the baby
awoke. He was a smiling, happy baby and crowed with delight when his
mother allowed him a cracker and a cup of milk.

"Shall we play games?" asked Suzanna next, when just at the moment the
sound of wheels was heard and shortly there came into sight a low
carriage drawn by the two prosperous, fat brown horses, and seated in
the carriage was Suzanna's Eagle Man.

Suzanna darted out into the road. As the carriage did not stop she
called out: "Mr. Eagle Man! Oh, Mr. Eagle Man!"

The coachman involuntarily pulled in his horses. He didn't know what
peremptory signal would be given him to move on, or what inquiry as to
his sanity would scorchingly be made, but Suzanna's eager voice impelled
him to stop. Mr. Massey leaned over the side of the carriage.

"I never dreamed you'd ride by our picnic," said Suzanna, all excited.
"We've got my mother here and our baby."

"Well, well," said the Eagle Man. "And how are you, little girl?"

"I'm awfully well," returned Suzanna. "But today was cleaning day at
home and we all started out wrong; the baby kept mother awake last night
and Maizie hated her oatmeal with the syrup in the middle and Peter
cried hard because he couldn't see his ears, and never in all his life
can see his ears."

She paused tragically. "Never in all his life--and neither can you, or
anybody."

"What a terrible loss, for sure," said the Eagle Man, after a look
darted at his coachman's imperturbable back. "And what did _you_ cry
about?"

She stared at him in horror. "I never cry," she said. "I mean I never
let the tears fall down my face. I cry in my heart sometimes, but never
out loud, on top. But I felt funny this morning because I wished we
didn't have to wash on Monday, and iron on Tuesday, and clean on
Wedn