“Where shall we eat our lunch?” asked Grace, as the ever-mounting sun approached the zenith.

“Are you hungry already?” asked Amy.

“I am beginning to feel the pangs,” admitted the tall, graceful girl.

“Then you can’t have eaten much candy,” commented Mollie.

“Only three pieces.”

“Hurrah!  Grace is reforming!” cheered Betty.  “That’s fine!”

“I don’t see why you’re always making fun of me,” Grace said, as she pouted.  “I’m sure you are all just as fond of chocolate as I am.”

“Never mind,” consoled Mollie.  “We will eat soon, for I confess to having an appetite on my own account.”

Deciding to eat, at least on this first day of the tramp, a lunch of their own providing, rather than go to some restaurant, country hotel, or stop at a chance farm house, the girls had brought with them packages of food, and the alcohol stove for a cup of tea, or some chocolate.

“This looks to be a perfect place for our picnic,” said Betty, as, on passing a farm, they saw the plow-horses unhitched and led under a tree to partake of their hay and oats.  “It must be noon by that sign,” went on the Little Captain, confirming her guess by a glance at her watch.  “It is,” she said.  “So we’ll eat here,” and she indicated a little grassy knoll under a great oak tree at the side of the road.

“There’s the most beautiful spring of water here, too,” went on Grace.  “Shall we make tea?”

“Do!” exclaimed Mollie.  “I’m just dying for a good hot cup.  But not too strong.”

Soon they had merrily gathered about the greensward table, on which paper napkins formed the cloth.  The sandwiches were set out, with a bottle of olives to add to the attractiveness, and then the little kettle was put on the alcohol stove, which had been set up in the shelter of the great oak’s massive trunk.

“It’s boiling!” finally announced Betty.  “Hand me the tea ball, Amy, my dear.”

Pouring the steaming water over the silver tea ball, Betty circulated it around in the cup, until one fragrant brew was made.  She passed this over to Mollie, and proceeded to make another.

“It’s delicious!” cried the French girl, as she tasted it, cream and sugar having been added.  “Oh, isn’t this just lovely!”

“Perfect,” murmured Grace.  “I wouldn’t have missed this for anything!”

In pure enjoyment they reclined on the grass after the meal, and then, as Betty, after a look at her watch, warned them that the better half of their journey still lay before them, they started off again.

They had proceeded a mile or so, and the way was not so pleasant now, for the road was sandy, when they came to a fork of the highway.  A time-worn sign-post bore letters that could scarcely be made out, and, though they had a road map, the girls were not quite sure which way to take to get to Rockford.  They were debating the matter, alternately consulting the map and the sign-post, when a farmer drove past.