most of a tune on the cabinet organ;
teacher says she'll give me lessons."

"I want to know, dear!" exclaimed John Hilton.

"Yes, an' we played Copenhagen, an' took sides spellin', an' Katy beat
everybody spellin' there was there."

Katy had not spoken; she was not so strong as her sister, and while
Susan Ellen stood a step or two away addressing her eager little
audience, Katy had seated herself close to her father on the doorstep.
He put his arm around her shoulders, and drew her close to his side,
where she stayed.

"Ain't you got nothin' to tell, daughter?" he asked, looking down
fondly; and Katy gave a pleased little sigh for answer.

"Tell 'em what's goin' to be the last day o' school, and about our
trimmin' the schoolhouse," she said; and Susan Ellen gave the
programme in most spirited fashion.

"'T will be a great time," said the mother, when she had finished. "I
don't see why folks wants to go trapesin' off to strange places when
such things is happenin' right about 'em." But the children did not
observe her mysterious air. "Come, you must step yourselves right to
bed!"

They all went into the dark, warm house; the bright moon shone upon it
steadily all night, and the lilac flowers were shaken by no breath of
wind until the early dawn.

II.

The Hiltons always waked early. So did their neighbors, the crows and
song-sparrows and robins, the light-footed foxes and squirrels in the
woods. When John Hilton waked, before five o'clock, an hour later than
usual because he had sat up so late, he opened the house door and came
out into the yard, crossing the short green turf hurriedly as if the
day were too far spent for any loitering. The magnitude of the plan
for taking a whole day of pleasure confronted him seriously, but the
weather was fair, and his wife, whose disapproval could not have been
set aside, had accepted and even smiled upon the great project. It was
inevitable now, that he and the children should go to Topham Corners.
Mrs. Hilton had the pleasure of waking them, and telling the news.

In a few minutes they came frisking out to talk over the great plans.
The cattle were already fed, and their father was milking. The only
sign of high festivity was the wagon pulled out into the yard, with
both seats put in as if it were Sunday; but Mr. Hilton still wore his
every-day clothes, and Susan Ellen suffered instantly from
disappointment.

"Ain't we goin', father?" she asked complainingly; but h