Faith had not devised something harder.

"Let's pick Monday," said Faith. "We mostly have a pretty FILLING
dinner on Sundays, and Mondays meals never amount to much
anyhow."

"But that's just the point," exclaimed Jerry. "We mustn't take
the easiest day to fast, but the hardest--and that's Sunday,
because, as you say, we mostly have roast beef that day instead
of cold ditto. It wouldn't be much punishment to fast from
ditto. Let's take next Sunday. It will be a good day, for
father is going to exchange for the morning service with the
Upper Lowbridge minister. Father will be away till evening. If
Aunt Martha wonders what's got into us, we'll tell her right up
that we're fasting for the good of our souls, and it is in the
Bible and she is not to interfere, and I guess she won't."

Aunt Martha did not. She merely said in her fretful mumbling
way, "What foolishness are you young rips up to now?" and thought
no more about it. Mr. Meredith had gone away early in the
morning before any one was up. He went without his breakfast,
too, but that was, of course, of common occurrence. Half of the
time he forgot it and there was no one to remind him of it.
Breakfast--Aunt Martha's breakfast--was not a hard meal to miss.
Even the hungry "young rips" did not feel it any great
deprivation to abstain from the "lumpy porridge and blue milk"
which had aroused the scorn of Mary Vance. But it was different
at dinner time. They were furiously hungry then, and the odor of
roast beef which pervaded the manse, and which was wholly
delightful in spite of the fact that the roast beef was badly