"Away, away to the mountain's brow, For Ferguson glares like an
angry cow. He'll punch my head, and kill me dead, Before I have
time to say 'Bow-wow.'"

And the five young people went off laughing to the tennis-court.





CHAPTER IV.

HESTER'S PLAYROOM.




"'THAR!' said the Deacon. 'Naow she'll dew!'"

Hildegarde spoke in a tone of satisfaction, as she looked about
her room. She had been setting it to rights,--not that it was ever
"to wrongs" for any length of time,--for Bell and Gertrude
Merryweather were coming to spend the morning with her, and she
wanted her own special sanctum to look its best. She was very fond
of this large, bare, airy chamber, with its polished floor, its
white wainscoting, and its quaint blue-dragon paper. She had made
it into a picture gallery, and just now it was a flower-show, too;
for every available vase and bowl was filled with flowers from
wood and garden. On the round table stood a huge Indian jar of