leaving her time to stitch happily at certain dainty bits of sewing,
write voluminous letters, or dream over others quite as long, swinging
in her hammock under the lilacs.



CHAPTER XIII.

SOMEBODY RUNS AWAY.


"School is done,
Now we'll have fun,"

sung Bab and Betty, slamming down their books as if they never meant to
take them up again, when they came home on the last day of June.

Tired teacher had dismissed them for eight whole weeks and gone away to
rest; the little school-house was shut up, lessons were over, spirits
rising fast, and vacation had begun. The quiet town seemed suddenly
inundated with children all in such a rampant state that busy mothers
wondered how they ever should be able to keep their frisky darlings out
of mischief; thrifty fathers planned how they could bribe the idle
hands to pick berries or rake hay; and the old folks, while wishing the
young folks well, secretly blessed the man who invented schools.

The girls immediately began to talk about picnics, and have them, too;
for little hats sprung up in the fields like a new sort of
mushroom,--every hill-side bloomed with gay gowns, looking as if the
flowers had gone out for a walk, and the woods were full of featherless