me put my own hand into the box, so I picked out the longest sticks
there were. Now, Cecy, as you're company, you shall have the first drink
out of the bottle."

The "something delicious" proved to be weak vinegar-and-water. It was
quite warm, but somehow, drank up there in the loft, and out of a
bottle, it tasted very nice. Beside, they didn't _call_ it
vinegar-and-water--of course not! Each child gave his or her swallow a
different name, as if the bottle were like Signor Blitz's and could pour
out a dozen things at once. Clover called her share "Raspberry Shrub,"
Dorry christened his "Ginger Pop," while Cecy, who was romantic, took
her three sips under the name of "Hydomel," which she explained was
something nice, made, she believed, of beeswax. The last drop gone, and
the last bit of cinnamon crunched, the company came to order again, for
the purpose of hearing Philly repeat his one piece,--

"Little drops of water,"

which exciting poem he had said every Saturday as far back as they could
remember. After that Katy declared the literary part of the "Feet" over,
and they all fell to playing "Stagecoach," which, in spite of close
quarters and an occasional bump from the roof, was such good fun, that a
general "Oh dear!" welcomed the ringing of the tea-bell. I suppose
cookies and vinegar had taken away their appetites, for none of them
were hungry, and Dorry astonished Aunt Izzie very much by eyeing the
table in a disgusted way, and saying: "Pshaw! _only_ plum sweatmeats and
sponge cake and hot biscuit! I don't want any supper."

"What ails the child? he must be sick," said Dr. Carr; but Katy
explained.