ggs, and garden vegetables.

So Wyn tripped along this right hand extension of the wood path and,
within half an hour, came out of the forest upon the edge of the cleared
farm. Before her lay sloping fields up, up, up to a high knoll, on the
top of which stood a windmill, painted red.

The long arms of the mill, canvas-covered, rose much higher in the air
than the gilt vane that glistened on the very peak of the roof. The
rising sun shone full upon the windmill and made it a brilliant spot of
color against the blue sky; but the wind was still and the sails did not
cause the arms to revolve.

Just below the mill, upon the leisurely slope of the knoll, was set the
white-painted farmhouse, with well-kept stables and out-buildings and
poultry yards and piggery at the rear.

"What a pretty spot!" cried Wyn, aloud. "And the woods are so thick
between it and the lake that one would never know it was here."

She hurried on, for she knew by the smoke rising from the house chimney
and the bustle of sound from the barnyard that the farmer and his family
were astir.

Before she reached the side porch a number of cows, one with a bell on
her neck leading the herd, filed out through the side yard and took a
lane for the distant pasture. Horses neighed for their breakfasts, the
pigs squealed in their sties and there was a pretty young woman singing
at the well curb as she drew a great, splashing bucket of water.

"Oh! you're one of the girls Polly Jarley told us were coming to the
lake to camp?" said the farmer's wife, graciously. "And did you get here
in the storm last night? How do you all like it?"

"I can only answer for myself," declared Wyn, laughing. "They were all
asleep when I came away. But I guess if we have nothing worse to trouble
us than that shower we shall get along all right."

"You're a plucky girl--for a city one," said the woman. "Now, do you
want milk and eggs?"

Wyn told her what she wanted, and paid for the things. Then she started
back to camp, laden with the brimming milk pail and a basket which the
farmer's wife had let her have.

The sun was now mounting swiftly in his course across the sky. Faintly
she heard the sawmill at the Forge blowing a whistle to call the hands,
and knew that it was six o'clock. She hurried her steps and reached the
opening where the tent was pitched just as the first sleepy Go-Ahead was
creeping out to see what manner of day it might be.

"For goodness' sake, Wyn Mallo