“Not very.”

“O Daisy,” said Ella Stanfield, “couldn’t we fish?”

“There are so many boys—­” said Daisy; “I do not believe there will be any fishing tackle for us.”

“Can you fish, Daisy?” asked the doctor, who stood near, looking after his gun.

“No, sir.  I did catch a fish once—­but it was only my line caught it.”

“Not your hand at the end of the line?”

“My hand was not there.  The line was lying on the bank and my hook in the water.”

“Oh! that was it!”

Away went the doctor with his gun, and the boys sped off with their fishing rods.  The heat was too great for anybody else to move.  Nevertheless, what are parties of pleasure for but pleasure? they must not let the whole day slip away with nothing done but lying in the shade of the trees.  There was a little island in the lake, well wooded like its shores.  It was proposed that the ladies’ fishing party should row over to the island, and there, under another shady grove, carry on their designs against the pickerel.  Daisy’s wish was to go with that party in the boat and watch their sport; especially as Mr. Randolph was the leader and manager of it.  She was not asked to go; there was no room for the little people; so they stood on the shore and saw the setting-off, and watched the bright dimples every stroke of the oars made in the surface of the lake.

The people were pretty well scattered now.  Nobody was left on the ground but Mrs. Gary and Mrs. Fish, sitting under a tree at some distance, talking; and Eloise and Theresa, who were charged to superintend the laying of the cloth.  Having nothing particular to do, the three children became hangers-on, to watch how this business would be conducted; ready to help if they got a chance.

It was found a difficult business to arrange places for so many people on the grass; and the girls finally and wisely gave it up.  They determined to set out the eatables only, on a tablecloth spread to receive them; but to let everybody eat where he felt disposed, or where he could find the best bit of shade.  Shade was the best thing that day, Theresa Stanfield declared.  But the first thing of all was to light a fire; for coffee must be boiled, and tea made.  The fire was not a troublesome thing to have, for dead wood was in plenty for the gathering.  James and Logan, who had come to the scene of action, soon had that going; and the children forgot that it was hot, in the beauty and the novelty of the thing, and laughed at Theresa’s red cheeks as she stooped over the coals with her coffee-pot.  About coffee Daisy was ignorant.  But tea had been made in her behalf by Juanita too many times for her not to have the whole proceeding fixed in her memory.

“O Eloise, you must not make that tea now!” she exclaimed.

“Mustn’t I!”

“No.  It will be spoiled.”

“Some other things have had the same fate,” said Eloise.