“It is Blossom Banks, Miss Midge,” said Carter, who now came up to the girls, and who was carrying a mysterious-looking basket.  He had secured the boat, and seemed about to climb the banks.

“What’s in the basket, Carter?” cried Midge.  “Is it a picnic?  Is it a truly picnic?”

“Well, just a wee bit of a picnic, Miss Midget.  Your Grandma said that maybe some cookies and apples wouldn’t go begging among yees.  But ye must climb the banks first, so up ye go!”

Gayly the girls scrambled up the bank, and though Stella was not as impetuous as the others, she was not far behind.  At every step new beauties dawned, and Marjorie, who was a nature-lover, drew a long breath of delight as she reached the top of the Blossom Banks.

They trotted on, sometimes following Carter’s long strides and sometimes dancing ahead; now falling back to chatter with Stella and now racing each other to the next hillock.

At last they reached the dearest little picnic place, with soft green grass for a carpet, and gnarled roots of great trees for rustic seats.

“For a little picnic,” said Midge, as she sat with an apple in one hand and a cookie in the other, contentedly munching them both alternately, “this is the bestest ever.  And isn’t this a splendiferous place for a big picnic!”

“Perhaps your grandma will let you have one this summer,” said Stella.  “She had one for Kingdon last year and we all came to it.  It was lovely fun.”

“Indeed it was,” cried Molly; “there were swings on the trees, and we played tag, and we had bushels of sandwiches.”

“I’m going to ask Grandma as soon as ever I get home,” declared Midge, “and I ’most know she’ll let me have one.  But I don’t know many children around here to ask.”

“I’ll make up a list for you,” volunteered Molly.  “Come on, girls, let’s play tag.”

The cookies and apples being all gone and Carter having consented in response to their coaxing to stay half an hour longer, they had a glorious game of tag.

Stella, though so sedate when walking, could run like a deer, and easily caught the others; for Marjorie was too plump to run fast, and Molly, though light on her feet, was forever tumbling down.

At last, tired and warm from their racing, they sat down again in the little mossy dell and played jackstones until Carter declared they must go home.

“All right,” said Midge; “but, Carter, row us a little farther down stream, won’t you, before you turn around?”

“I will, Miss Midge, if ye’ll sit still and not be everlastin’ makin’ me heart jump into me throat thinkin’ ye’ll turn the boat upside down.”

“All right,” cried Midge, and she jumped into the boat with a spring and a bounce that made the other end tip up and splash the water all over her.

“There ye go now,” grumbled Carter; “my, but it’s the rambunctious little piece ye are!  Now, Miss Molly, for the land’s sake, do step in with your feet and not with your head!  You two’ll be the death of me yet!”