It was a trifle past seven o’clock Saturday morning when Bob Trotter drove up to Mr. Hooks’s to take in Clara, she being the picnicker nearest his starting point.  He did not know that she was a put off-er.  She was just trimming a hat for the ride when Bob’s wagon was announced.  She hadn’t begun her breakfast, though all the rest of the family had finished the meal, while the lunch which should have been basketed the previous night was scattered over the house from the parlor center-table to the wood-shed.

Clara opened a window and called to Bob that she would be ready in a minute.  Then she appealed to everybody to help her.  There was a hurly-burly, to be sure.  She asked mamma to braid her hair; little brother to bring her blue hair-ribbon from her bureau drawer; little Lucy to bring a basket for the prospective nuts; big brother to get the inevitable light shawl which mamma would be sure to make her take along.  She begged papa to butter some bread for her, and cut her steak into mouthfuls to facilitate her breakfast, while the maid was put to collecting the widely scattered lunch.  Mamma put baby, whom she was feeding, off her lap—­he began to scream; little brother left his doughnut on a chair—­the cat began to eat it; little Lucy left her doll on the floor—­big brother stepped on its face, for he did not leave his book, but tried to read as he went to get the light shawl; papa laid down his cigar to prepare the put-offer’s breakfast—­it went out; the maid dropped the broom—­the wind blew the trash from the dust-pan over the swept floor.  Clara continued to trim the hat.  As she was putting in the last pin, mamma reached the tip end of the hair, and called for the ribbon to tie the braid.  “Here ’tis,” said little brother.  “Mercy!” cried Clara, “he’s got my new blue sash, stringing it along through all the dust.  Goose! do you think I could wear that great long wide thing on my hair?” Little brother said “Scat!” and rushed to the rescue of his doughnut, while Lucy came in dragging the clothes-basket, and big brother entered with mamma’s black lace shawl.

“Well, you told me to get a light one,” he replied to Clara’s impatient remonstrance, while Lucy whimpered that they wouldn’t have enough nuts if the clothes-basket wasn’t taken along.

However, when Bob Trotter had secured Clara Hooks, the other girls were quickly picked up, and so were the four boys, for Bob was brisk and so were his horses.  Dick Hart was the last called for.  He had been ready since quarter past six, and with his forehandedness had worried his friends as effectually as the put-offer had hers.  When the wagon at last appeared with its load of fun and laughter, he felt too ill-humored to return the merry greetings.

“A pretty time to be coming around!” he grumbled, climbing to his seat.  “I’ve been waiting three hours.”

“You houghtn’t to ’ave begun to wait so hearly,” said Bob, who had some peculiarities of pronunciation derived from his English parentage.