gazing into the thick mesh of leaves overhead. "Nobody ever said
'Teacher! Teacher!' to me."

"There never were any negatives to be 'touched up'--nobody ever had
their pictures taken," Laura Ann murmured, dreamy, too. "I've always
been here beside this brook, lying on my back--what a beautiful world
it's always been!"

The Talented One sat rigidly straight. "There have always been
handkerchiefs," she sighed, "and there always will be. I shall have to
go back there and sell them. When I look at all these leaves, it reminds
me--there are leaves on handkerchiefs, straggling round the
borders--ugh!"

It was foolish talk, perhaps, but it was the place and the time for
foolish talk. After a little more of it they drifted apart, wandering
this way and that in a delightful, aimless way. So little of their four
lives had been aimless or especially delightful that they reveled in the
sweet opportunity. Loraine wandered farthest. She came after awhile to a
clearing where a small pond glimmered redly with the parting rays of the
sun. A great boy lounged beside the pond dangling a pole. Loraine
recognized him as Jane Cotton's Sam.

"Oh!" she said, "now I've made a noise and scared away your fish!"

"Ain't any fish," muttered the boy. He did not turn around. The pole
slanted further and further, till it lay on the bank beside the boy.

"Oh, maybe there are, if you wait long enough--and nobody comes crashing
through the bushes! I don't suppose--I mean if you are not going to use