Miss Lever was as enthusiastic as the girls; she climbed over fallen tree trunks, grubbed among dead leaves, jumped the brook and scaled fences with delightful energy.  It was she who pointed out the heron sailing overhead, and noticed the gold-crested wren’s nest hanging under the branch of a fir, a little battered with autumn rain, and too high, alas! to be taken, but a most interesting item to go down in the note-books.  The girls could hardly be persuaded to tear themselves away from the glory of the woods, and would have spent the whole time there, but Miss Lever had other plans.

“Come along!  We’ve scared the pheasants quite enough,” she declared.  “My mind is set on fossils, and if we don’t go on to Copplestones at once we shall be caught in the dark, or miss our tea or our train or something equally disagreeable.”

The quarry was only half a mile away, and it proved as interesting as the wood.  Being Saturday afternoon the men were not working, so they had the place to themselves, and wandered about examining heaps of shale, and tapping likely-looking stones with their hammers.  Garnet and Winona knew nothing of geology, so they listened with due meekness while the instructed few discoursed learnedly on palaeozoic rocks, stratified conglomerates and quartzites.  They rejoiced with Miss Lever, however, when she secured a fairly intact belemnite.  It was the only good find they had, though some of the girls got broken bits of fossil shells.

“The fact is one needs a whole day to hunt about in this quarry, and my watch tells me we ought to be going,” said Miss Lever.  “Who feels inclined for tea?”

Everybody felt very much disposed, so the procession started off cheerfully for the farm close by, and the nature-lovers were soon hard at work consuming platefuls of bread and butter, jars of jam, and piles of plum cake.

“Sixteen varieties of wild flowers, seven various specimens of fungi, nine different sorts of berries, twelve species of birds noticed, also rabbits and squirrel, one bird’s nest and one perfect fossil—­not a bad record for an autumn foray!” said Linda, proudly consulting her note-book.

“Especially when you remember we’re well on in November!” added Annie.  “It will be something to enter in the League minutes book.”

“I’m afraid it’s the last ramble we shall get this year,” said Miss Lever, “but I’ve one or two nice little schemes on hand for the spring, so the League must look forward to next April.  Will any one have any more tea?  Then please make a move, for it’s time we were starting.”

“Good old Dollikins!” murmured Linda as the girls put on their coats.  “She’s A1 at a foray.  Got something ripping for next season in her head.  I can tell by the twinkle in her eye.  She’ll ruminate over it all winter, and drop it on us as a surprise some day.  Oh, thunder!  Yes, we ought to be starting!  Come along, you slackers, do you want to be left standing on the platform with a couple of hours to wait for the next train?  Then sprint as hard as you can!”