“Yeth.”

“Harriet pulled hith whithkerth latht night.  Do you know what he thaid?”

“I can imagine that he was quite angry,” answered Miss Partridge.

“Yeth I gueth he wath.  He thaid, ‘leggo my whithkerth, contharn ye!’ Yeth he did, didn’t he, Harriet!  Wathn’t that awful?”

“Oh, Tommy!” begged Harriet.

It was a full minute before order was restored in the dining tent.  At the conclusion of the outbreak Mrs. Livingston gave the signal to rise and the girls crowded out with flushed faces and laughing eyes, a group of them surrounding Tommy, asking her questions in the hope that she might amuse them with other funny remarks.  This gathering was interrupted by the voice of Mrs. Livingston.

“The Meadow-Brook Girls may go to their tents to arrange their outfits,” she announced.  “The trunks are in place.  I suppose you will want to change to your camp uniforms.”

The girls assented eagerly.  Tommy fairly flew over the uneven ground.  She caught her toe on the root of a tree, measuring her length on the ground.  She was up and off again unheeding the shouts of laughter from her companions.

Each of the Meadow-Brook Girls was eager to get into her uniform.  Tommy was so excited that Harriet had to assist her in dressing.  Then when this had been accomplished Tommy swept up and down the tent, surveying herself in the mirror from various different attitudes.

“How do you like me?” she demanded, squinting up at Harriet.

“You will do very well if you fix your hair.  It looks frightful, Tommy.  You must spend more time with it.  The way you wear your hair reminds me of Crazy Jane.”

“Oh, dear.  I can’t thpend the time to bother with it.  I’m too buthy.  You do it for me.”

“I will help you, of course, if you wish, but a Camp Girl should be able to do such things for herself.  Now you watch me do mine.  While you are watching, give your own hair a good brushing.”

Harriet parted her hair in the middle in a very straight line, divided it into four strands, which she wound into as many soft coils, two at the nape of the neck and one on each side half concealing her ears.  She pinned it securely, then with artistic precision fluffed a few locks of hair about her temples.

“There!” she said, turning a smiling face to her little companion who had been observing her admiringly.

“I couldn’t do that with my hair.”

“I know that, dear.  Your hair is not as thick as mine.  Now let me see what you can do with yours.  It looks better now that you have brushed it out.”

Tommy arranged herself before a mirror.  She braided her light hair tightly into a pig-tail, tying it about half way up with a black ribbon.  Stray ends, like the unraveled strands of a rope were left stringing down over her ears, giving to her face a more impish expression than it had worn before.  She turned from the mirror in which she had been admiring her handiwork, to meet the laughing eyes of her companion.