“What was Miss Putnam doing?” she asked curiously, watching Louise fold up the frock she had taken off.

“She was out in her yard nailing something on the fence,” said Louise.  “I saw her when I was a block away, hammering as though her life depended on it.  A crowd of boys were watching her—­at a safe distance—­and when I came near enough I saw she had a roll of wire in the yard.  She was nailing barbwire along the fence pickets!”

“How mean!” scolded Sister.  “No one wants to climb over her old fence, or swing on her gate.”

“Well, I think it is a shame the way the boys torment her,” declared Louise severely.  “Jimmie says he caught a little red-headed boy the other day throwing old tin cans over her fence.  You know what Daddy would say if he ever thought you or Brother did anything like that.”

“We don’t,” Sister assured her earnestly.  “We never bother Miss Putnam.”

CHAPTER XIII

A BIG DISAPPOINTMENT

Fourth of July, always a glorious holiday in the Morrison household, came and was celebrated by a family picnic which gave Brother and Sister something to talk about for days afterward.  Their sandbox, too, kept them busy and for a long time Jimmie never had to warn them not to touch the gymnasium apparatus in the barn.

Daddy Morrison and Dick and Ralph continued to go every day to the city and Jimmie worked faithfully at his books, determined to begin the fall school term without a condition.  As captain of the football team it was necessary for him to make a good showing in his lessons as well as in athletics.

Louise and Grace perhaps enjoyed the vacation time more than any other members of the family.  They would be sophomores when they returned to high school in September, and while they were willing to study hard then, they meant to have all the fun they could before they were bound down to books and lessons again.

“Where you going?” Sister asked one night, finding Louise prinking before the hall mirror and Grace counting change from her mesh bag.

“Out,” answered Louise serenely, pulling her pretty hair more over her ears.

“I know—­to the movies!” guessed Brother.  “Can’t we go?  Oh, please, Louise—­you said you’d take us sometime!”

“Oh, yes, Louise, can’t we go?” teased Sister.  “I never went to the movies at night,” she added pleadingly.

“You can’t go,” said Louise reasonably enough.  “We didn’t go when we were little like you.  Don’t hang on me, please, Sister; it’s too hot.”

“I think you’re mean!” stormed Brother.  “Mother, can’t we go to the movies?”

Mother Morrison, who had been upstairs to get her fan, was going with Louise and Grace.  She shook her head to Brother’s question.

“My dearies, of course you can’t go at night,” she said firmly.  “I want you to be good children and go to bed when the clock strikes eight.  Ralph promised to come up and see you.  Kiss Mother good-night, Sister, and be a good girl.”