sterday evening
crabbing."

"Will--we--eat--it?" exclaimed Walter. "I won't dare look at a frying
pan again this week, and my term ends with the week," he said, between
bites.

Next came baked potatoes. These had been done on the electric toaster,
right aboard the _Chelton_, and while scarcely a correct following for
salad, the first was given as an appetizer, and the potatoes as food.

The latter were served on the smallest of wooden plates, with the most
extravagant little butter plates--really sauce or cream "thimbles,"
all fluted and shaped from white paper.

A dozen of these cups had been Belle's contribution to the feast. She
spied them at the news stand, over at the point, and could not leave
them.

Dried beef went with the potatoes, also dill pickles, and while Cora
kept the electric toaster going, and saw to it that the "kitchen" did
not run out of hot water from a reserve tank, the other girls took
turns eating their own lunches. Of course, as the boys were guests, it
was important their wants should be first supplied, a matter not
easily managed, as the girls soon found out.

"More! More!" called Ed, who was eating the browned potato skin, or
bark, with unmistakable relish. "Potatoes are good for the nerves!"

"Robber!" shouted Jack, grabbing a second supply that had just been
adjusted on Ed's plate. "Potatoes are good for the lungs, and I
am--winded."

"I should like just a tiny bit more crab," simpered Dray. "Fish is
good for----"

"We have something more," Cora announced, "don't each too much solid
stuff."

"We couldn't," declared Belle, "not if we kept eating for the rest of
our mortal lives, it wouldn't be too much."

"There are the 'Likes'!" announced Lottie, indicating a canoe gliding
up the bay, in which were two members of the "We-like-it" camp. "Now
we will have to hide things."

"Hide things!" Belle tossed her sweater over her plate as she saw the
canoe. "We are lost!"

"Oh, let us invite them alongside," suggested Lottie, who, up to that
moment had been so busy with setting out plates that she had scarcely
spoken to the visitors. "We have plenty of stuff."

"Nix, nary, not much!" cried Ed, in protest. "That's 'Dainty' there,
the stroke, and if he gets in here he'll eat the dish pan and the
cooker. I say, young ladies should be most careful what sort of
fellows they associate with."

But in spite of this the "Likes" were invited. Possibly they smelled
the eatables, for they ca