precipitated herself from the highest pier.

In vain to-day did she perform feats of daring and agility that
would have done credit to a flying fish. No one had eyes for her
except an agitated mother and grandmother, who finally ordered
her summarily out of the water and into the bath house.

Amiel had occupied himself in coaxing Jennie into the water and
giving her primary instructions in swimming. Jennie, in the
daintiest red and white suit that could be imagined, skirted and
stockinged, with her curls escaping from a coquettish red
handkerchief, timorously advancing and drawing back from the wave
rush with little, appealing cries, was as fascinating as a
playful kitten.

Dorothea regarded her with the disgust of the seasoned veteran
for the raw recruit. This, however, her erstwhile friend might
have been pardoned for not suspecting, seeing that whenever she
caught Dorothea's eye she was immediately the recipient of a wide
and beaming smile that even one less vain might have accepted as
a tribute to her attractions. It never wavered even while Jennie
shook down her long curls ostensibly to let the sun dry a single
lock that in some unaccountable way had felt the touch of a wave.
Beamingly Dorothea heard Amiel humorously contrast this brown
glory with her own short crop. Beamingly she fell into the plans
for the crabbing party that afternoon. However, it was this
lightsome expedition that laid the last straw upon the Monster's
back.

The gentle art of crabbing involves the carrying of a