n happened,
an extra hard jog threw them together. After four miles of this rather
exciting journey they reached the farm. Their driver stopped at a
gate, and, pointing across a field to some tents, indicated that this
was their destination. He could take them no nearer, and they must
convey their own bags and bundles over the pasture.

Hauling their own luggage with them was no light task, and they were
heartily tired of their burdens before they reached the tents. Three
of these, labelled Marlowe Grange, they appropriated; then Miss Gibbs,
after a brief confabulation with the canteen matron, beckoned to her
flock.

"I hear we must go at once and secure first pick of the hay sacks,"
she said. "Come along, all of you!"

Over three more fields and two stiles they came to the farm buildings,
where, spread out on hurdles, were a number of large sacks, mercifully
clean. An individual in charge, wearing a faded blue suit and a two
days' growth of stubbly beard, told them briefly to help themselves,
and then take their sacks to the barn and fill them with hay.
Preparing their own mattresses was a new experience, but an amusing
one. It was fun stuffing the sweet-smelling hay into the rough canvas
bags, and more fun still carrying the bulky bedding back over fields
and stiles to the tents. Here, amid a chaos of unpacking, they at last
disposed their belongings to their satisfaction.

Their special little colony consisted of nine tents and a marquee for
meals. It was in charge of a matron, who directed the canteen, and was
responsible for the comfort and order of the camp. In each tent hung a
list of rules respecting hours of rising and going to bed, meals, and
general conduct. As there was no servant except the cook, the task of
washing up must be shared by all in rotation, the matron having
authority to apportion the work. No lights or talking were to be
allowed after 10.30 p.m.

By the time the girls had settled all their possessions it was seven
o'clock, and the rest of the camp returned from the strawberry fields.
Supper was served in the marquee, everybody sitting on benches round
wooden tables without cloths. The company proved pleasant and
congenial; there were fifty in all, including some students from
Ludminster University, and eight girls and two teachers from a
secondary school at Tadbury. The slum party, it seemed, were lodged in
the big barns behind the farm, while some caravans of gipsy pickers
had possessi