feet.

"Boston! Oh, girls, you don't know how I want to see Boston, and Paul
Revere's grave, and the Common, and the old State House, and Bunker
Hill, and that lovely North Church where they hung the lantern, you
know.

'Listen, my children, and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,'"

she began to chant impressively. "Oh, don't you just love that poem?"

"Who was Paul Revere?" asked Tilly, pleasantly.

"Paul Revere!" exclaimed Quentina, plainly shocked. "Who was _Paul
Revere_!"

"Tilly!" scolded Genevieve, as soon as she could command her voice.
"Quentina, that's only some of Tilly's nonsense. Tilly knows very well
who Paul Revere was."

"Yes, of course she does; and we all do," interposed Elsie Martin. "But
I'll own right up, I don't know half as much about all those historical
things and places as I ought to."

"Neither do I," chimed in Bertha. "Just because they're right there
handy, and we can go any time, we--"

"We _don't_ go any time," laughed Alma Lane, finishing the sentence for
her.

"I know it," said Elsie. "We had a cousin with us for two weeks last
summer, and she just doted on old relics and graveyards. She made us
take her into Boston 'most every day, and she asked all sorts of
questions which I couldn't answer."

"Yes, I know; but excuse me, please," put in Tilly, flippantly. "I don't
want any graveyards and relics in mine."

"That's slang, Tilly," reproved Cordelia.

"Is it?" murmured Tilly, serenely.

"Besides, people come from miles and miles just to see those things that
we neglect, right at our doors, almost."

"But how can you neglect them?" remonstrated Quentina. "Why, if I ever
go to Boston, I sha'n't sleep nor eat till I've seen Paul Revere's
grave!"

"Well, I shouldn't sleep nor eat if I did," shuddered Tilly.

"You mean you've _never_ seen it?" gasped Quentina, unbelievingly.

"Guilty!" Tilly held up her hand unblushingly.

"Never you mind, Quentina," soothed Genevieve. "We are interested in
those things, really."

"Then you have seen it?"

"Er--n-no, not that one," confessed Genevieve, coloring. "But I've seen
heaps of other graves there," she assured her hopefully, as if graves
were the only open door to Quentina's favor.

"Oh, you've had such chances," envied Quentina. "Just think--Boston! You
_said_ you were near Boston?"

"Oh, yes."

"Less than two hours away?"

"Why, yes," exclaimed Tilly, "I told you. We're less than