“No, I wont, either, for may be I wouldn’t get to the camp with the nut-cakes before noon, and then they would have eaten all their cheese.  No, I’ll go right on, and not stay there any time at all, but come back and get the checkerberries; besides, mother said she’d be lonesome without me, so I’d better not stay, any way.”

So Roxie, flattering herself like many an older person with the fancy that she was giving up her selfish pleasure for that of another, while really she was carrying out her own fancy, went singing on her way, and reached the camp just as her father struck his ax deep into the log where he meant to leave it for an hour, and Jake, her handsome elder brother, took off his cap, pushed the curls back from his heated brow, and shook out the hay and grain before old Rob, whose whinny had already proclaimed dinner-time.

“Why, if here isn’t sis with a tin kettle, and I’ll be bound some of ma’am’s nut-cakes in it!” exclaimed Jake, who had rather mourned at the said cakes not being ready before he left home, and then he caught the little girl up in his arms, kissed her heartily, and put her on Rob’s back, whence she slid down, saying gravely: 

“Jake, Ma says I’m getting too old for rough play.  I’ll be twelve years old next June.”

“All right, old lady; I’ll get you a pair of specs and a new cap or two for a birthday present,” laughed Jake, uncovering the tin kettle, while his father said: 

“We wont have you an old woman before you’re a young one, will we, Tib?  Come, sit down by me and have some dinner.  You’re good to bring us the nut-cakes and get here in such good season.”

The three were very happy and merry over their dinner, although Roxie declined to eat anything except out of her own pocket, and the time passed swiftly until Mr. Beamish glanced up at the sun, rose, took his ax out of the cleft in the log, and, swinging it over his head, said: 

“Come, Jake, nooning is over.  Get to work.”

“All right, sir.  You can sit still as long as you like, sis, and by and by I’ll take you home on Rob.”

“I’m going now, Jake,” said Roxie, hesitating a little, and finally concluding not to mention the checkerberries, lest her father or brother should object to her going alone into the wilder part of the forest.  “Ma said she’d be lonesome,” added she hurriedly, and then her cheeks began to burn as if she had really told a lie instead of suggesting one.

“Well, you’re a right down good girl to come so far and then to think of Ma instead of yourself, and next day we’re working about home I’ll give you a good ride to pay for it.”

And Jake kissed his little sister tenderly, her father nodded good-bye with some pleasant word of thanks, and Roxie with the empty tin pail in her hand set out upon her homeward journey, a little excitement in her heart as she thought of her contemplated excursion, a little sting in her conscience as she reflected that she had not been quite honest about any part of it.